Whenever I switch from last download to last 12 months in iPhoto, I get a little shock.
Whoa! Is that my baby? And on which terrible setting did I have my camera? Speaking of which, a couple of times in the last month I've had my camera in my pocket, turned on, and hit some button that makes my shots hazy and grainy. My camera knowledge is inexcusably poor for the daughter of a photographer. But I am a true point and shooter. Unless it is blurry, I almost always go for the first shot I take of a subject. And I take a bunch (photographer's daughter). Occasionally I'll rearrange something. A bit is okay. Too much and it just ruins it. For instance, I gathered these flowers from the yard. Got a bit out of hand actually.
Lovely, aren't they? But there was junk on the dresser and so much stuff on the floor around it that I cut it off. Then I tidied later in the day and "fixed" the flowers before I took the shot.
See? Not as good as when I just stuffed 'em in there. Oxeye daisie, peonies, wild roses, giant clover blossoms (I think these belong to an entirely different family, but I can't remember in which plant book I identified them. Anyone?), young maple branches and tufted vetch. I wish we had fox gloves. They're blooming like crazy along the roadsides. But this pretty thing doesn't mind.
Roses please! There's lots to eat in the yard.
For us, too.
Jane says, "More beans! More beans!" We planted these snap peas in February. Then we thought we'd done it too early, so we gave up on them and let the plot grow in. Turns out they survived, as did the strawberries we must have divided with our double digging. If you click that link, you'll see it was much sunnier here in January.
Today is Solstice. I am intentionally NOT calling it "the first day of summer," because it has yet to display any summery qualities. Another day of rain, warmer than the last few but still a chill in the air. So this morning I decided, To hell with it! I'm building a fire! I'm eating nutmeg raisin loaf and drinking spicy tea and baking bread! I'm wearing tweed! And I did. In fact, it was a very pleasurable day. We took a walk first thing. I mean, after getting up at 5 and trying to get Jane to eat SOMETHING, ANYTHING while sucking down mug after mug of English Breakfast. THEN we took a walk, to see the sheep of course.
On the way Jane picked a daisy ("Giffft!") for her doll to smell. She's crinkling her nose and making a buck-toothed sniffing face. Sniff sniff sniff.
"Oh sheepieeeeeees..." There was a beautiful mist on the ridge. Hard to get a picture of.
And I saw a flower along the road I've never seen before. Haven't looked it up yet.
Coffee and aforementioned breads back home.
Peonies rescued from downpour and vetch blooming over the kitchen sink. I'll be taking these upstairs tonight, a talisman for peaceful sleep (honest, it really works).
Don't take a picture of the stupid fire, take a picture of this awesome Playmobil "baby!"
You can see her nose is running. Only the one nostril. You know what that means... But here's the stove. You can't see the fire. All you can see is our mess. But the smell of the stove when it hasn't been lit for a while. I love it.
Jane and I read together. We found a book that interests us both: The Private World of Tasha Tudor.
I've gotten all the books about Tasha Tudor from the library, blessed library. I think this one is the best. It is the least precious, and the most jolly. In her own words, with much quoting of Shakespeare and Mark Twain. This is going on my wishlist. I like that about the library. I see so many books on blogs and websites. And you just can't tell. If I renew it and renew it, I know it's a keeper.
Jane is teething again with a fury. I had almost forgotten what she's like in the throes. Tripping, not even falling, but bursting into agonies and weeping. Smiting her forehead. Holding her hands to her mouth and cheeks. You know the type of thing. Poor baby. Finally, mid Iafternoon, she lost herself in the 64 pack of crayons and no longer needed my attention.
It wasn't a beautiful day in the garden or at the beach. But it ended up a lovely Solstice anyway. A joy bringing, sense pleasing, soul stirring sort of day. Crackling fire. Peppery carrot soup with fresh white bread. Cozy socks. A few stolen moments knitting. Many lovely blogs to read at nap time. Saying no and saying yes at the right times. Feeling good about my choices. A miniature new year's, in a way. A good day to make some changes, and get a fresh start.
And now, on the longest day of the year, the clouds are giving us another unusual treat. It's dark before 10:30pm! I'm taking my peonies up to bed. Happy Solstice to you.