Wotta Nice Day
It really has been an extraordinarily nice day for us. After breakfast, a romp in the ravine with our little dogs. I've been feeding our toy poodle too much, it seems; he dawdles and backs us right up on our walks. We've taken of late to letting him off the leash and just urging him on. The miniature poodle is different, she trots on before us very nicely and only hangs back when there's a special occasion for her, something really tempting, like a ripe old turd or a poor dead animal - in which she thinks she can roll to her heart's content. But we've got her number, catch her intent and let her know there'll be no such display of indifference to our distaste for washing offal of any kind off her curly black coat.The trilliums are just about finished, their flowers fast fading. But the foamflowers are up, as are the bunchberry flowers, the strawberries, and now even ground blackberries. There are lots of jack-in-the-pulpits raising their shy purple-green striped hoods, and false Solomon's Seal as well. We're delighted to see the occasional bluejay. We used to see them so often, but now see them only in spring or fall, in these parts now. The robins appear to prefer the woods, rather than peoples' lawns, and who can blame them, considering the herbicides and pesticides being used so commonly now, as though a pristine lawn is the heart's desire of every idiot on the block.
Later, we head out for our local community centre because we want to pick up their brochures for summer daycamps for kids. We have to do a detour through the library because of construction ongoing at the community centre, and we're thrilled that we did. For there's a book sale going on, and how would we have known otherwise? Alas, we no longer attend the library as we did formerly, since we now own so many books, lining our personal library walls, all of which we aspire to read, and do our best to achieve that aspiration. But a book sale, good heavens, let us in. We load the dogs into their shoulder bags and haul them with us, while we look through the offerings. They behave wonderfully well, after their walk, and people hardly notice them slung over our shoulders. Except that Riley reacts rather enthusiastically if someone does notice him, and would, if permitted, launch himself into any admirer's arms as though to declaim "take me, I'm yours"! But, the books, would you believe it? hardbacks, four for one dollar, and softbacks, ten for one dollar. Most of these books are in excellent condition, some of them de-acquisitioned from the library shelves, others donated for the sale. The books represent the classics, biographies, history books, novels of every description. We pick up a nice book for our granddaughter, on Louis Pasteur, and for us, just about as many books as we can possibly carry, crammed into double re-used plastic bags.
Where to now? Should go back home, but my wonderful husband had suggested earlier in the morning that we drop by a local greenhouse and nursery and that's just what we end up doing. It's a bit of a drive, isolated between a country stretch and the Ottawa River. Too hot to stay there long, but we've taken water with for our little dogs, and we take the time to look at the annuals, perennials and unusual plants of all types. We get a white-and-green-striped Heuchera, a big-leafed yellow-tinged Hosta, a Stella d'Oro Lily, a stone-crop red-tinged groundcover (for the rock garden), a Bellflower, a Digitalis, and a flat of Zinnias (even though I've sown Zinnia seeds; these have had a month's head start and will begin blooming before long).
At home, I go across the street to speak for a little while with a coffee-clache of neighbour women, while my husband makes himself another pot of coffee. Then I begin weeding the garden a bit, figuring out where I want to plant these new offerings. Irving brings his coffee outside and sits on the stone bench in front of the big pine, while the dogs pant their way to some shade and I begin, slowly, to plant. A hole, some bloodmeal, water, then insert the new plant, taking care to give shade to the Hosta, and sun or partial sun to the others. Irving ambles down to the bus stop and comes back with Angelyne. Mohinder comes down the street and he and Irving chat, while I go in with Angelyne to prepare her after-school snack. A bowl of blueberries, a glass of chocolate milk, and one of the little pizzas we'd baked for her on Saturday night. A popsicle of her choice to bring outside, and back out to continue planting.
Despite a few tentative little raindrops, nothing more develops, so our plans for a steak dinner done on the barbecue are right on cue, so to speak. A nice big fresh salad to go with it, baked potato for Irving. After dinner he goes out to chat with some neighbours. I also go out, intending to drop by the last two houses to finish up the CNIB canvass, but stop to speak with a neighbour who said she planted the seeds I'd given her (from last year's garden), and I ask if she'd like some plants I could divide. I give her a small piece of Hosta I'd divided earlier, tell her in a day or so I'll give her a divided Bergenia, some Lilies, and more Hostas. I love Hostas!
Nice day, isn't that a nice day? For heaven's sake, our daughter Karen even called to apologize for her ill humour when she picked Angelyne up, after work. She was grumbling about the old beater she was driving, a courtesy car given her by the garage performing tune-up work on her Honda SUV - they'd ordered the wrong parts and need another day. She's had a difficult time of it lately; one of her dogs had been ill, and needed, she felt, a veterinarian's care, and since it happened to be a holiday Monday, she had to use the emergency veterinarian service, and the entire thing cost her a hefty $670. Then she had to get heartworm medication for all seven of her dogs and that's another $400. Now the car repair was not the $1,200 she had anticipated but $2,200 instead. She had been out of work for four months during the winter, and that had eaten up her savings. Employment Insurance Commission had 'lost' her file, and despite her having contacted them repeatedly only to have them assure her everything was fine, it was only once she had another contract and returned to work that they informed her that her file had been lost and she had to refile her claim. No wonder she's a little off colour.
But didn't we have a grand day?
posted by Pieface @ Wednesday, June 01, 2005
<< Home