the familiar, the new

You sleep. I'll let the cheepers out.

It was to be a small act of kindness. But what it did was to make my day long and full. In good ways, though definitely full.

But honestly, I was anxious to get out and see the garden. Here's my first view of it, just before sunrise.






I check, too, on the berries. There is the upside: they're ripe and plentiful!











There is the downside: as of today (Ed swears this was not the case yesterday), the morning mosquitoes have arrived.

Okay, I have taken note. Let me inspect the front yard anyway. The cheepers follow.






Back to the courtyard. Looking toward the sheep shed at my very favorite summertime view of the gardens. (Lessons from Giverny on how to view a garden: it's the entirety!)






Breakfast: wonderful, warm, with a view.






Two more pictures of the gardens for now: toward the main flower bed...






...and in deep appreciation of the countless lilies that bloom mainly in July, toward the porch. If you sit there, out on the porch, you are up close and personal with them.






I do love color. And this is the season for it.

I take a pause and wash Snowdrop's new stuff (the girl grows with lightening speed). Colorful and garden like.





And then, with but one more interruption for grocery shop, I stay outdoors, putting in a solid eight hours of yard work.


Evening.  Time to get dinner ready for the young family. Yes, I can finally see, hold, hug, hold again,  my granddaughter. Though I must admit, I cheated last night. Ed and I stopped by her home on the way from the airport. It was way past her bedtime, but she'd been alerted to the coming back of gaga. It was a wonderful reunion!


Okay, back to this day. Pre-dinner nibbles: today, I include shrimp, knowing darn well that this is a Snowdrop favorite.







At the farmhouse, she seems puzzled that it all looks so familiar. She also seems very content. (At the table, glancing at her books.)






She does want to go outside though. Constantly, tearfully. There, there, Snowdrop, we'll get to it, really we will.

See? Go ahead. Romp.






Dinner.





All of us.






Dessert.






Daddy's lap.






And I give her a frozen  yogurt, which this time, she wants only in theory. Dinner was large enough.





The evening turns into night, the fireflies spark the sky. It's hard to turn off the day, but I am still very tired and anything I write later into the night, will not be something you'll want to read within your time zone. Good night then to all! Until tomorrow.