The second day of July rolls in hot and steamy. And green. Looking out on my Big Bed this morning, I see a lot of buds, but not many blooms yet.
Yes, the lemon yellow day lilies are popping out in many other beds, but I'm waiting for the other colorful varieties to take over. Well now, here's one!
The true lilies -- the oriental and trumpet tall girls (real name: "lilium") are ahead of the day lilies (real name: "hemerocallis," translated as day beauty from Greek). You can see both the orange and yellow spikes here. And there are more and they are just about ready to flower.
So, bottom flower line: we're at the cusp of the big bang. But not there yet.
As I walk back to the farmhouse after animal feeding, the adult swallows come out and swoop around the courtyard. They want to appear aggressive. The cats have stayed away from their garage nest, full of little ones. I'm glad.
Dance, keeping a low profile in the courtyard.
Oh, and a random note: we wintered over three big pots in the sheep shed. Two looked like death had struck early. But lo! Outside again, in the warmth of a summer season, they're happy and thriving. Here's one:
Okay, back to the morning. And guess who calls me at breakfast time?? Yes! Little Primrose. We talk peaches and blueberries.
And after, I get this guy to come down and join me for our porch morning meal.
Phew, busy enough morning for you? In the nicest way.
The kids arrive just as Ed and I wolf down the last piece of peach.
It is hot. There are bugs, but in tolerable quantities. (Should we thank the swallows? Typically by now we are overwhelmed by mosquitoes. Oh, but this year is not typical. Not by a long shot.) I don't really need to apply super duper repellents, though I do spritz them with the "natural" stuff that makes you feel like you did something, even though you know the bugs are laughing themselves silly at your efforts.
We walk over to the young orchard.
The chickens are coming, the chickens are coming!
Snowdrop hops on the ladder and reaches for a few cherries that have yet to have the imprint of hungry birds.
Sparrow does agree to try the ladder. At two, he can hang in there, but he's not going to scale it high enough to pick any cherries. Though I'm sure he'd be happy to keep up with his sister, in all but the actual eating of the fruit.
Walking back, a pause to play with the weeping swaying lovely willows.
Sparrow's affection for Happy, the rooster, is strong and ever-present. Even with windows closed, we can faintly hear Happy's rooster cry (the bird never shuts up). Sparrow always perks up and acknowledges the crow with a happy "Happy!"
Inside: loving the cool air after our hot walk.
Somewhere in the middle of the morning, I abandon all school-like schedules and offer them water play. On the porch, so bug free.
It's amazing to me how much they still enjoy this silly tub of a wading pool! I've thought about upgrading it somewhat but decided there's no need: they have a better deal at home. Here, it's just a fun occasional soak in cold water on a hot hot day
Our not so feral feral queen, Dance, is no longer afraid of the two kids. She naps through their raucous, wet play.
Both Snowdrop and Sparrow insist on dumping every old pool toy in the wading tub. I never acquired anything interesting or elaborate for it, but they claim every last silly bug, boat, cup and bucket is important.
Lunch is very late.
Later, much later, when the kids are home and the cats, chickens and swallows are resting somewhere, Ed asks -- want to go for a walk?
I do. A real walk along a real path. I now I vowed not to return to our county park until the virus was history and at least three seasons have come and gone, but still, maybe we can sneak in a late walk? I mean, who goes hiking at 5 in the evening?
We hop on his motorbike and head out.
There are some beautiful moments. The prairie is thick with future blooms. We see all our favorite pals: birds, bees, bunnies, dragonflies. And not a person in sight.
But as we cut through the forest, the bugs pick up considerably. So maybe this will be our last summer walk here?
Who can tell.
Evening. Lentil soup, salads, and sweet peas from our CSA box.
Summer foods for a summer mood.
Yes, the lemon yellow day lilies are popping out in many other beds, but I'm waiting for the other colorful varieties to take over. Well now, here's one!
The true lilies -- the oriental and trumpet tall girls (real name: "lilium") are ahead of the day lilies (real name: "hemerocallis," translated as day beauty from Greek). You can see both the orange and yellow spikes here. And there are more and they are just about ready to flower.
So, bottom flower line: we're at the cusp of the big bang. But not there yet.
As I walk back to the farmhouse after animal feeding, the adult swallows come out and swoop around the courtyard. They want to appear aggressive. The cats have stayed away from their garage nest, full of little ones. I'm glad.
Dance, keeping a low profile in the courtyard.
Oh, and a random note: we wintered over three big pots in the sheep shed. Two looked like death had struck early. But lo! Outside again, in the warmth of a summer season, they're happy and thriving. Here's one:
Okay, back to the morning. And guess who calls me at breakfast time?? Yes! Little Primrose. We talk peaches and blueberries.
And after, I get this guy to come down and join me for our porch morning meal.
Phew, busy enough morning for you? In the nicest way.
The kids arrive just as Ed and I wolf down the last piece of peach.
It is hot. There are bugs, but in tolerable quantities. (Should we thank the swallows? Typically by now we are overwhelmed by mosquitoes. Oh, but this year is not typical. Not by a long shot.) I don't really need to apply super duper repellents, though I do spritz them with the "natural" stuff that makes you feel like you did something, even though you know the bugs are laughing themselves silly at your efforts.
We walk over to the young orchard.
The chickens are coming, the chickens are coming!
Snowdrop hops on the ladder and reaches for a few cherries that have yet to have the imprint of hungry birds.
Sparrow does agree to try the ladder. At two, he can hang in there, but he's not going to scale it high enough to pick any cherries. Though I'm sure he'd be happy to keep up with his sister, in all but the actual eating of the fruit.
Walking back, a pause to play with the weeping swaying lovely willows.
Sparrow's affection for Happy, the rooster, is strong and ever-present. Even with windows closed, we can faintly hear Happy's rooster cry (the bird never shuts up). Sparrow always perks up and acknowledges the crow with a happy "Happy!"
Inside: loving the cool air after our hot walk.
Somewhere in the middle of the morning, I abandon all school-like schedules and offer them water play. On the porch, so bug free.
It's amazing to me how much they still enjoy this silly tub of a wading pool! I've thought about upgrading it somewhat but decided there's no need: they have a better deal at home. Here, it's just a fun occasional soak in cold water on a hot hot day
Our not so feral feral queen, Dance, is no longer afraid of the two kids. She naps through their raucous, wet play.
Both Snowdrop and Sparrow insist on dumping every old pool toy in the wading tub. I never acquired anything interesting or elaborate for it, but they claim every last silly bug, boat, cup and bucket is important.
Lunch is very late.
Later, much later, when the kids are home and the cats, chickens and swallows are resting somewhere, Ed asks -- want to go for a walk?
I do. A real walk along a real path. I now I vowed not to return to our county park until the virus was history and at least three seasons have come and gone, but still, maybe we can sneak in a late walk? I mean, who goes hiking at 5 in the evening?
We hop on his motorbike and head out.
There are some beautiful moments. The prairie is thick with future blooms. We see all our favorite pals: birds, bees, bunnies, dragonflies. And not a person in sight.
But as we cut through the forest, the bugs pick up considerably. So maybe this will be our last summer walk here?
Who can tell.
Evening. Lentil soup, salads, and sweet peas from our CSA box.
Summer foods for a summer mood.
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