A Rainy Day...

 

We all know how wonderful it is to finally get rain after a long dry spell, so I won't carry on and on about how sweet it was, except to say, "Rain is such a blessing."  

  At first the cattle kept right on grazing, and actually seemed to be enjoying a good shower after so long.  As the rain became heavier, they did, however, take cover in the woods.  

After the rain ended later in the day, Millie and I took to the trail.  The rain-cooled air felt quite wonderful, and I was reminded that I should be finishing up the trail jacket for days like this one.  (I have already made buttonholes, so there's not much left to do except to dye it, which has me a little nervous. I snapped this picture before I made the buttonholes.  I finally had to buy new buttons, which I didn't want to do, but I could never find enough old ones of the right size to do the job.) 

Life in the Zinnia Patch...

 

 

It's another hot one in the zinnia patch today.  Our weather guy posted this map yesterday showing us in the top 1% of the world for highest heat index of near 110-115.  (Hint:  We are not in the Sahara.  :~/ )

Millie and I walked the trail early.  It was eerily quiet this morning.  A doe was in no hurry to leave her cedar thicket just off the path.  Somewhere the summer tanagers were hiding in the thick branches above us.  They were quiet as were the mockingbirds and other songbirds that usually sing their early morning songs.  

A couple of black swallowtail butterflies seemed undaunted, however, flitting from flower to flower.  

There were more poppies to admire.  My grandmother and Georgia O'Keefe would have loved this bright red one.  I did too.  

In last year's journal, I had written about these two fabulous women.  Of Georgia O'Keefe I had scribbled, "She kept the tails of rattlesnakes she killed in a tin box.  She picked bones from the desert in lieu of flowers.  To me they are as beautiful as anything I know."  In her new desert home in New Mexico, she never looked back and the red poppy was no more....

My grandmother's home surrounded by red flowers. 

Then, dearer to me, were these notes I had written about my grandmother.

My grandmother....

💗  loved the color red ~ red dahlias and verbena.  And, Santa Claus.  Her Christmas cards always had  pictures of Santa Claus on them.

💗  enjoyed taking visitors on a walk-about to look at her flowers, gardens and orchards.

💗  took pride in raising large juicy deep red Black Diamond watermelons.

💗  tended a large flock of prized brown leghorn hens (and a rooster or two that was up crowing at the crack of dawn.)

💗   cooked on a wood-burning cookstove until she replaced it with an electric one later on.  

💗  set up make-shift racks from metal roofing for drying fruits, apples and peaches from the orchard.

💗  lit a kerosene lamp at night for light until they got electricity.

💗  taught me how to make doll house furniture from light-weight cardboard, and flowers from crepe paper ~ red, of course. 

💗  took me to the corner drug store for ice cream served in clear glass dishes.  We sat in a booth and talked.  

Closing out June...

 

I was so happy to find a red poppy blooming in the garden this morning.  It reminds me so much of the red crepe paper flowers I made with my grandmother when I was a kid.  She would have loved these red poppies. 

  I pressed this one flat to be placed in my journal when dry.  I will collect seeds from other red blooms in hopes of having more next year.  But I will also take seeds from the pink ones for they are quite lovely too.  

We had rain late yesterday, then beautiful blue skies and lots of sunshine today. 

The plants were happy.

Blackcurrant Swirl Moonflower

The sewing room project.

Rearranging the Shanty and Garden Closeups...

What a fun project this has been.  And Hubby just loves moving furniture. Ha! Ha!  Of course, one can't move just one thing without the domino effect kicking in.  The sewing room somehow got involved, but I will have more about that later.

It's through the Shanty windows that I enjoy watching the hummingbirds.  Activity around the feeders has picked up considerably this past week, so there's lots to see.  

Despite our extremely dry conditions here, I am still enjoying quite a bit of color in the gardens.  The zinnias will start blooming in a few days.  I am anxiously awaiting to see what colors they will be this year - hopefully not so much yellow as last year.  

A Day in June...

As I write this, I am looking through old buttons for something suitable for the Wild Jacket.  Yes, the jacket is finished now except for this final step of making buttonholes and sewing on buttons... and then it'll be off to the dye pot.

Earlier, when I was out and about, making my preliminary rounds of checking on the gardens, I surprised a doe as she was nibbling on one of the tomato plants.  She looked a bit abashed to have been found out, and gave me one of those, "what goes on here, stays here," looks.  I thought she was beautiful.  

We missed an opportunity yesterday for a good rain shower.  Dark clouds looked promising, but all to no avail.  We did, however, enjoy a drop in temperature of about a dozen degrees, which made for a most pleasant afternoon.

While the plants were in the mood for rain, I dragged out the garden hoses and began to water.  I hoped that every flower, bush, and garden vegetable would think it was rain falling from the sky, for plants like that kind of water best of all.  

As I moved slowly from here to there, my summer tanager alighted on his favorite fence post and sang to me.  I have read that the tanagers are quite shy, but it seems to me that they seek out company, or in this case, this summer tanager seems to seek out my company.  

There are several other summer tanagers here on the hill this year ~ possibly sons and daughters that have been born and raised here.  I often hear their sweet songs as Millie and I walk the trails, and on one day's trek, I saw both a male and female together.  The female is rather yellow green in color, but I do not often see her. 

I am happy to see that the Bee Balm (monarda) is beginning to bloom. The hummingbirds love it almost as much as I do.

I have begun to move a few plants into the new border along the old plank fence.  Monarda was one of the first things I planted there.  I have given it lots of space so it can do what it wants to do.  

And, now for those buttons......  

Wild Jackets and Wild Walks...

 

Plato says, "Music is a moral law.  It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything." 

I wonder if this wise man would include a mockingbird's song as music worthy of such praise.  My front door is standing open as I work for I am not wanting to miss a moment of our much adored Mockingbird's performance from atop the power pole in the front yard.  I feel sure Plato wouldn't have wanted to miss it either.

I am currently working on a jacket from a pattern I have drafted myself which has taken me much time, and is, in fact, still a work in progress.  I have used an old linen sheet for my trial-and-error experiments.  I now wish I had used a nice crisp piece of muslin, but at this point I will not start over.  I will have more on this later on but will just say that I think it is going to work.  And, if it does, I will eco-dye it, India Flint style, and wear my wild jacket over the hill with Millie.  

Here I am inside my closet modeling my wild jacket as it is today.  I am anxious to add the sleeves.  I hope my seamstress mom is looking down on me and nodding her head in approval.  I sewed on Mother's Day and thought of her.  

However, sewing may be taking second seat for a while for haying season is here.  It is quite dry here, so the weather is perfect for making hay.  Here's the first bale of the season.  

The gardens are coming along nicely after a slow start this spring.  I am looking forward to fresh roasted vegetables, but it will be a while before they are ready...hopefully by July 4.  

Here we are already on Walk # 411.  "Where go the days down that tunnel of time..."  (Louis L'Amour)