Tuesday

I don't think anyone is still hanging onto a summer schedule. The second half of August is when you're left scrambling: to fit in all that you had seen yourself doing this summer, to get your schedule in order for the Fall, to check off any last appointments, to reset your brain to the rapidly approaching new season. And of course, kids are either starting school now or counting (on one hand) the number of days til that start.

For me, this period is a mixed bag of goodies. I like my garden, but I'm less keen on taking the camera out. Except for the early morning. Like today. During the walk to deal with the animals. That's it.

(In my fields, end of August means a proliferation of purple blooms interspersed with deep yellows.)

(Why does this girl lay her little green eggs in my lily bed??)

(tail end...)

It's a time when I most love breakfast on the porch. Because I know there's about a month left of this incredibly relaxed meal -- something that you could not do when working a full time job or raising kids or in the dead of winter, but now -- it's yours for the asking!

 

 

 

It's a time when I remind myself to get moving, because it really is a lot easier to hop on a bike or do something super sporty now than it will be in November. So once again I pedal out and about, enjoying the sights and smells of August.

When Snowdrop comes over, I don't push the great outdoors on her. Just a couple of quick pics with my wobbly camera and we go in to read, and build a Lego set, and tell stories.

On the one hand you want to say -- romp! It's warm! It's easy! It's rural and grand! On the other hand, it's warm. Maybe a little buggy. Hey, have I showed you the size of these guys? Total menace in the garden. Go find some grasses to feast on and leave my flowers alone! (It's time to take out the home made pepper spray again...)

Time to go home. She and her brother have one week of summer vacation left. Funny how for the adults in the family summer always moves so fast! And then the school year moves even faster.

(no school for this guy yet...)

Evening at the farmette: here, the daylight hours start fading by dinnertime. This is new and very Fall-ish! I think about the candles I'll soon be bringing out. Another seasonal imperative: finding ways to bring light inside your living space even as the natural light fades with the setting sun.

I say to Ed -- between the rural bike paths and the county cross country ski trails practically out the door, could we be living in a more beautiful place?

We're doin' alright, he tells me. We're doing alright.