isn't this the perfect day to...

 ... wear bright pink shorts? On an impulse I ask Ed this morning -- should I wear my raspberry red shorts or my denim ones? I never ask him this stuff because he doesn't care and I don't care either. I have 7 pairs of shorts, I run through them in the course of the week. But I added this bright pair this year and they seem almost too bright. So I hesitated. Ed pretended he had an opinion on this: wear the bright pink ones. And so I did.

As on every July day, I begin with plucking spent lilies. The numbers are not big yet. Still in the 200s. Nonetheless, the signs of a good lily season are there!

 

(um, I'm trying to grow a Clematis over that stump, buddy!) 

 

 

(perhaps you've noticed -- I love to pair lilies with phloxes)

(a mix of day lilies and true lilies)

It really is a pretty time of the year and because we've had neither excessive rains nor excessive dry spells, the flower beds look healthy and vibrant. And reasonably weed free!

I'm ready for a breakfast of Madison Sourdough pastries and so I put in my order and set out to pick them up. Not in the usual way (by car), but on Rosie the Vespa-wannabe. 

Ed found me a used moped on Craigslist about a dozen years ago. It's actually quite lovely. Deserving of the name Rosie. Initially it had some mechanical (slow start) issues, but Ed has been patiently working through them and the moped is now in great working order. He asked me the other day if I will ever ride it again, given that I haven't taken it out for several years now. If it's to stand idle, I might as well sell it. Someone would surely appreciate it. The trouble is - I don't know what the future holds. Will Rosie be useful again? I've been so pleased with my electric bike (Alpine Blue) that I always choose it over the moped. 

Why don't you ride it to the bakery? -- Ed asks. Then you can see how you feel about it.

And of course, it feels grand. It's just the perfect day for a moped ride and Madison Sourdough is a great destination -- too far for a pre-breakfast bike ride, but ideal for a moped, as all the speed limits going there and back are within her capabilities. (Rosie maxes out at 35 mph (56 k), though downhill she can accelerate to 40.)

I recognize that Rosie's usefulness is limited. She's a fair weather friend. Awful in windy or wet days. Maybe it's better to let her go?

Then I step into Madison Sourdough. As usual, it's crowded, but I preordered and prepaid, so I avoid the line and walk over to the shelves where they keep our purchases. A woman, about my daughters' age, stops me and says -- Oh my God, you are killing it! I'll have to tell my husband...

So here's the question: is it because I have my motorbike helmet on and she was impressed with seeing wisps of gray hair sticking out at the sides? Or was it my raspberry pink shorts? Or how about the Baggu bag that I slung across my shoulder -- so fashionable, a daughter gift of course? Or maybe the combination of raspberry pink shorts, gray hair, and helmet, with a sack of croissants? 

I'll never know, but as I pull into our driveway...

... I think to myself -- Rosie has to stay. I'm killing it! How often do I get that kind of a reaction? I'm not giving her up! 

(a very leisurely breakfast on the porch) 

 

 

 

 

In the afternoon Ed and I go to our local farmers market. I haven't taken my bicycle out since I left for Europe. I suggest we bike over, select our market stuff, and continue down another couple of miles to pick up our last CSA box of veggies for the year. He hesitates. It's 91F (33C) outside. Don't you think it's a little hot for biking?  No I don't. You've been out on your bike, I haven't. I need a little leg action. You can take your motorcycle if you prefer. No, I'll bike along with you.

It's a hilly ride. By the time we reach the market, Ed is downright dizzy. I tell him to wait for me and I'll spin over for our CSA box, but of course, telling Ed to give up on something is pointless. Our exchanges go something like this: Are you sure you're okay? I'm okay. Would you tell me if you weren't? Nope.

Natalie is at the market (I get a small bouquet of flowers from her). She offers to run us home in her truck, bikes and all. I tell her thanks, but no thanks. Ed'll pass out before he'll take that kind of help. And maybe not even then. 

We stroll the market, pick up cheese curds, a loaf of the black walnut sourdough bread, and hey, a first batch of local blueberries!

And then we bike uphill all the way for our veggie box and I swear Ed is so overheated he almost looks pale to me. Ghostly. And still he continues. 

 

 

 

We'd left our market purchases with Natalie so that they wouldn't get thrashed around in my basket on the hot ride, and we stop at her stand on our way back to load up my bike with all our fruits, veggies, cheeses, breads and flowers.

We come into our air conditioned house and it feels like heaven to have a cool kitchen to unpack in, a cool living room to rest, a cool glass of water to sip, and a cool bunch of cats to feed their evening supper!

It was a really lovely day.