a July Sunday

Oh, summer! You can be a pain, a headache, a torment. But you can also provide us with days from which dreams are made! Warm, but not hot, sunny but not humid, some flower buds opening, most still holding hope for a future riot of color.





On such a gorgeous day, I get up happily. Early. To feed the cats, and to continue with weeding. The flower beds are mostly well tended by now. Weeds pop up, I pull them out. It's all rather straightforward.

But there are farmette places that are just OOC. Around the sheep shed, for example. I tug at so many weeds the size of me, that my back starts to creek. Must slow down... More importantly -- must complain to Ed. I tell him: I am swallowed up completely by the weeds of your yard. I need help!
I can't tell what's a weed and what's a plant...
Everything by the sheep shed and in the raspberry patch is a weed! Don't you see how awful it is here?
It all looks rather verdant to me...

Oh, Ed...

Three hours later, I am spent. But on a day like this, that's okay! I have breakfast on the porch to look forward to!






(looking out on a garden that is still not even close to being at full bloom.)





Ed wants to seize this great weather and do something outdoorsy, but I am too tired. Those three morning hours really wore me out. I settle in to work a little on photography issues (and watch a great soccer match!).


In the evening, the young family is here for dinner. Both kids had been a little under the weather and so it's just grand to see them chipper and joyful once again.





















(Yes, art hasn't left her blood after the trip... And that's such a good thing!)





The smell of summer is in the air. Rich, heavenly summer.