Another little something from Grandma Benson's china cabinet. Since taking this pic, I have dug up a proper-sized serving spoon. |
I escape from the hot sun just enough to be on top of the dishes and to be eating fabulously (though plain fare) well. Today I made crackers.
There has been time to get another chapter of Uncle Carl's memoir read (Annette, what's the holdup with yours?) and to take a small tub of soapy water out to the camper and start scrubbing out the winter's dust and dead flies and spiderwebs, and give the outside windows a swipe.
Only two pots of perennial yellow daisies remain to put into the ground. But where, I am asking, where? The flower bed is so packed with my lovelies. The oriental poppies will bloom any day, and soon the painted daisies. Oh it will be dazzling. I can hardly wait.
Talked to Everett for two hours on the phone yesterday. He has no summer job in Edmonton yet, but doesn't want to come out here because "You wreck my psyche" and "You drive me crazy" and "You don't leave me alone" and so on and so forth. I assume there are few 20-yr-old lads who want to spend a lot of time around the farmhouse with their mother. On the other hand, how many of them talk to her on the phone for two hours? I figure we get along great. He says he can't stand the sight of my face.
Sigh. This too shall pass. Recently I dreamt that when I saw him, I wept with happiness. Guess I have to take what I can get.
Oh, I don't know if you can believe me yet, but it gets better.
ReplyDeleteThanks Lorna. I do believe you. I'm pretty sure he just has some growing up to do.
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