Remarkable how each day can retain the patterns of its predecessors and yet feel uniquely different. One thing can tilt the scales in a completely novel direction. I can run through the day's highs here on Ocean and you'll read it and say -- well now, isn't that merely a repeat of last Monday? Or Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday?
No it isn't.
One outstanding feature of this day for me is that it's the last July Monday. Next week we'll have plunged into August and August, believe me, is no July.
Too, I bet you've had your doubts about the "one day only" blooming period of day-lilies. In the photos, they often look... the same. Oh, but they're not! When you're standing in the middle of a lily field and you have to reach way past your stretch capabilities, you think to yourself -- well, at least I wont have to twist myself into a knot tomorrow! This lily belongs to yesterday.
A brilliant and sunny day today. Very warm. In the low 90s (so upwards of 33C). But the mosquito population is receding, I think. (The deer flies? Still with us, but they mostly stick to the driveway. I don't know why. That has always been their hunting ground.)
I go out and I snip those lilies. And despite the fact that there is a bit of a spent lily surge again (801 snipped), I swear we're heading toward the end of such abundance. I can see that the number of buds is diminishing. Some of the varieties are finished. Just a few late bloomers show up with a fresh bounty.
But very many are on their last lily.
I'm always on the lookout for frogs.
... and pretty color combinations.
I planted a perennial sweet pea by a tall stump, thinking of the climbing possibilities. The vine chose to climb the lily rather than the stump.
On the other side of the stump: a new rose. The trump is falling apart. The flowers of the rose bush? Doing well. Just a little dusty from the stump.
(One more big, new group)
(And one more frog)
(Big Bed)
(the farmhouse)
Breakfast on the porch, with both Ed and Dance, though you can see neither. I'm too smitten with the flowers and the porch and the warm air and our peaches, mine over granola.
I have an errand to run this morning, but it could not be more fun -- I need to send out something at the UPS store. The bike ride to it (about 25 minutes each way) is one of my favorites. Some of it is on a bike path, some on the road, all of it lovely. So I take out Alpine Blue. (Ed does not like biking in this weather so he waves me on and goes back to his Very Important Nap.) And after I take care of my mailing, I think to myself -- well, I am almost going to pass Stoneman's. Just a small detour. Why not get more corn for the next couple of dinners?
I bike up on a much quieter Monday (they are busiest on the weekend). Back again! -- this from Jim Opperman, whose father-in-law (Mr. Stoneman) started the sweet corn business more than 60 years ago.
Of course, I believe in fresh corn so I buy only as much as I need for the day. But I do ask -- after all, he is the expert -- on a blind taste test, could you tell if you're eating just picked corn or day old corn?
Not with this variety. It'll taste the same for a couple of days.
Well now! I stock up with six ears. That'll keep Ed and me happy for three days!
And the ride back, with corn in my basket is again joyful. Yes, it is warm. But when you bike, you create a breeze. And besides, we're still in the morning hours. Day is young! Summer feels good!
But I don't actually spend much time outside in the afternoon. I give myself the project of reshuffling a forthcoming trip (yet again!). I have one idea, then I work through the details and reject it. I go onto another, and I do this until it's almost time to start in on dinner. August has travel in it. I better start doing something about it now, in these last days of July, while I have the time.
I tell you, this Monday felt good! Every aspect of it. But it is definitely the end of a month. I'm firming up plans with the young family for after school pickups. The kids are selecting school supplies. It's all moving along as nicely as the corn in Stoneman's fields. A stellar crop for them. A stellar set of days for me.
with love...
