What a classy gardener, using living blooms to embellish her hat...
Aidan paired all the baby cars with Mama cars.
I remember that June spilled over with flowers and toads and dirt and swimming. We went swimming five times before June first, which has to be a record, and have gone so many times since, I lost count. We planted and weeded and mowed and weed-whacked, but those are a given. Heat lightning and lightning bugs sparked together on new-moon nights while Orion kept vigil. All manner of natural revelation sprang up, unrelenting, until we took notice.
July and August piled together into a jumble of family adventures and projects and rain for a month straight. The gardens we religiously weeded in June and July started rotting from rain with no respite, and my fervor for keeping the weeds under control subsided in direct correlation to the number of crops that failed. And now I sit with September looming, ready to make the space to settle thoughts and home. Both are tangled and weedy, all unruly from a riotous summer and in need of order.With so much to do, where do I start? With the blog, of course. Classic procrastinator's move...