Running out
Summer is running out, like the sands in one of those primitive clocks. All the signs are there: a drop in temperature, requiring a jacket this evening. Us, out to the restaurant for what is the “last supper” with our visiting family members. Schools ready to resume whatever it is that they do.
I’m not surprised, but neither am I ready to search for mittens just yet. My summer isn’t over! I’ve got things I want to do. Go biking, for instance. I’ve had great intentions, but the days just went by, at a faster pace than I deserve. Plant some peach pits; no, that may have to wait. Plant other stuff…
Actually, we were over to see the admiral this morning, and came home with some daisies and roses. Oh, and seed pods for lavender poppies. This is all very mysterious, to me. I figured that liberating a rose bush meant digging out a lop of dirt. Turns out that the root is a runner, and if you point things right in the beginning, you can build a virtual wall just on the principle of weediness. So much to learn, yet.
So, as I mentioned, we were out for supper, at the place with the reputation. The food was good – for my son to proclaim “best burger I’ve ever eaten”, following his job in a boutique burger establishment, that comes as high praise. In my case, the fish and chips disappeared quickly, and my clean plate gave proof that I was also a satisfied client.
And now we’re home, ready to see if the night sky is as starry as promised.
