Friday

A string of sunny days. The kind of weather we once took for granted, before it was tabled and replaced by something more extreme. But today, we're back with bright, warm sunshine. And no, I am not taking it for granted!

It's true that you do not need to roll out the hose when spring and the first part of summer have drenched the soil so thoroughly. Except for watering flower tubs, this year I haven't had to stand for hours soaking the flower beds.

But I have spent a lot of time cleaning off spent flowers. And I do that again today. Nearly two hours of yard work, all before breakfast.

I think to myself: how many books might I have read in the time I've given over to snipping flowers? How many stories might I have written? But the more honest side of me retorts -- and how many more discouraging news stories would I have read on the internet? How many pointless trips to Amazon might I have made?

And here's another fact to consider: summer mornings are exquisite. The light plays in lovely ways on the flower beds, changing them dramatically with each minute. I'm glad I've been a witness to it.























(the roving cat food bowl...)






(where did the cat food go??)







In northern Europe, where I lived for so many years, winter mornings are dreadful. Dawn is so late that working people will have completed their commute before the first wisp of sunlight hits the pavement. But in the summer, the light is with you there, as it is here and each morning is simply sublime.











Breakfast. After 9.






If it's Friday, I must grocery shop.

After, a quick break for a coffee...






... and off I go to claim Snowdrop. She is tired in the way that she always is tired when the day has had endless time in the playground and a morning at the community pool, to say nothing of the usual school thisis and thats. So as always, when she asks to pick a flower at the farmette, I acquiesce.






So many blooms! The garden can spare one.






She places it in her little collection of this week's pickings...






... then proceeds to get her own snack -- same thing as always (cherries, a tiny ice cream sandwich, cheddar bunnies), arranged in the same place on the orange couch, where she loves to snuggle as we make our way through chosen books for the day.

There's a little time to play still. I am amused that she has returned to toys she hasn't touched for years. Primrose and Sparrow have refocused her attention on them. Young Lego sets! With lots of kid characters to make her stories exciting! (See the pitchfork leaning against the barn? This is Sparrow's absolute favorite toy in the world. When he comes to the farmhouse, he makes a beeline for the playroom, searching everywhere until he finds it. We cannot understand the attraction!)






In the late late afternoon, I drive Snowdrop home. I linger there for a while, because beautiful days and gorgeous evenings call for lingering.












At home again, Ed and I open every window within reach. Evenings are wonderfully cool. The farmhouse is taking in big gulps of summer air. And so are we.