'Tis the season . . . Soon Shakespeare in the park and fresh strawberries. Going to pick baskets of berries for jam and short cake and plain eating, one plump berry after another. I love summer's fresh fruit.
Once strawberry season starts, then cherry and raspberry and blueberry. We put by jars upon jars of jam in the summer. The whole farmhouse swells with the sounds of kettles bubbling. On winter mornings, the fresh jam makes all the difference.
It's a beautiful day today. Could be a perfect day for berry picking, or weeding, maybe both.
Have to catch up on my poem a day. Once again, my writing schedule was interrupted by daily living.
We had a graduation party here on Sunday, which was great fun and a pleasure celebrating Peter's accomplishment. Now we're eating leftovers. Macaroni salad is a bit of a mystery. It's like a magic bowl-- it never seems to diminish, and we've been diligent. It may take several days.
Pick a bouquet of roses yesterday. I love having fresh cut flowers in the house. Makes me feel rich.
Time to begin the day. . . .
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