POST #900---SUMMER WONDERFUL

 

 

 

DON’T YOU JUST LOVE:

 

 

Someone who gets up on Saturday while you’re still sleeping, and brings great bounty home from the Farmer’s Market?

 

 

And cuts it and cooks it and brings you a taste on a spoon?

 

Tee-ninecy baby straight-necks, shiny and new?

Green-crisp snap beans, perfect for the pot, to go with tiny new-dug potatoes---extra points for birth-earth still clinging?

 

 

 

Beloved sets of hands, to snap and shell and peel as they laugh and chat and carry on family rites older than memory. Sweetpea, Sis and Caro:

 

 

The differences in tomato countenances, just like people---rugged or smooth or innocent or guarding secrets within.  I prefer to look at them straight-on, because in those usual back-of-the-head displays, you can’t tell who is sweet and who is not, or if they’re tender and good, or stem AND stern all the way through. 

 

 

A promising fellow, mature enough to be mellow, but still with a smile and a spring in his step:

 

 

 

 

 

We had that one for lunch today, with peppery bacon, Wonder Bread, and Blue Plate.  A peach cobbler, also from the market, cinnamony and crusted with sandy sugar, still warm from the baking, from a nice lady with a lovely name. 

 

Perfectly peeled by Chris, with the shine and depth of gems. 

 

 

 

Heavy, juicy peaches, with the scent of sun still on their fuzzy cheeks.

 

The genuine, flowery-faces of patty-pans.   They’re like some people, who never realize how beautiful they are.

 

 

OTHER SUMMER LOVES: 

The view from my patio chair:

 

 

 

 

Sunny bench for Morning Coffee:

 

 

 

Same bench, with its green welcome of an afternoon: 

 

 

 

Yes, I’m aware of the dangers in the pot---we don’t shun people or places because of a few prickles.   We just try to keep out of prickle-range.

 

Fairy dell with its year-round carpet of ivy, violets and moss, with the most enchanting strange little glows in places, as the twilight  comes down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paddling with flamingoes in the pond: 

 

Caro’s Blueberry Trifle:

 

 

In the shady arbor:

 

And people who love you through all your flaws, even a bad toupee.

 

All you dear folks who visit, who comment, who drop in from time to time, those who are unknown save for the same familiar towns popping up so faithfully on the sidebar, and those who have been here every day of these 900 posts---ALL OF YOU:

 

KNOW THAT YOU ARE LOVED.

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