Monday

Could you grow tired of Fall if all days looked like this one? Brilliant sunshine, crispy clean air, offering a much needed refreshing change from the summer's heat.

Ed'll say -- the garden is gorgeous, gorgeous! (Around here, nicknames tend to stick!)
It is a matter of taste, I suppose, but it is true that at this stage I let the garden run wild. And Ed likes that. The rudbeckia (black eyed susans and coneflowers), the heliopsis (false sunflower), the cosmos (from the sunflower family) -- they rule, to the point that if they fall down and grow sideways -- I let them do it.

(Morning walk to feed the chickens...)






(Breakfast, on the porch, because there will be few days left when this is possible.)






I am a little bit tied to details today. (That's a pleasant way of saying I'm overwhelmed with tons of chores.) Too, it is my last day (for a while) where I can really play with Snowdrop after school. Our time together tomorrow will be very brief since I'll have a flight to catch. It's a good day to post a few short series of photos of Ms Beenah-Bay (yep, like em or not, our nicknames for each other tend to stick!) at play. Here, it is, our afternoon, as seen through the lens of my tag-along little camera.


(On the playground: Gaga, can I have pigtails?)
















(Snowdrop, it's buggy; let's go inside. No, Gaga, no! I need to run the hose!)






(Victorious!)





(The nasturtium flowers look on...)






(Let's go inside, now! But I need to help ahah!)






(Finally, they play castles and wizards. Inside.)










And then Snowdrop goes home and I return to the trivial, the mundane, interspersed with lovely moments of a quiet evening with Ed.

Tomorrow, late in the day, I travel. No delays, no kerfuffles please!

For now, from under the stars of a greatly speckled sky -- good night.