Number One Son Turns 24

gazania

Sure there are many flowers in bloom around the yard, but we need some sunshine around here if we're to see any serious action. I've arranged a weather swap with a work acquaintance in Ontario, where they're in the middle of a heat wave, so tomorrow we should see the mercury go up a little here in the parkland.

Two things it is risky for me to do:

* Leave the room while running water into the kitchen sink or the bathtub (for fear I’ll get distracted and flood the place; been there, done that).

* Fill the glass top of the blender while it sits on the motor base (for fear I’ll turn it on without the lid & make a hell of a mess); I take it off the base to be on the safe side.

You live, you learn.

Today is Emil's 24th birthday. He is permitted to take the day off from work, he says; I wonder if he will. His household will celebrate after supper with a cake from the bakery, and we here at home will take him for lunch at my niece's restaurant at Margo on Saturday. After which, he insists, we must drive by the Old Bartley Place (where he and I spent the summer he was three years old) and, he hopes, the new owner may invite us inside to see how it looks since it has been renovated. I've told him not to get his hopes up, as we are not acquainted with the owner. However, I do have a photograph of the Old Bartley Place, built brand new by my great-grandparents in 1916, and wonder if the new owner would be interested in having a copy of it.

This morning I pulled out old journals to see if I could put my hands on the one written when Emil was born. I did manage to find the right one and do a little reading. I was certainly smitten by this newborn baby who, I always say and absolutely mean, was the best thing that ever happened to me.