Saturday Might Be My Favourite Day

A person packs so much into a day, and yet — try to tell someone what you did, and sometimes it doesn't seem to amount to much.

It was a wet morning as there'd been rain during the night. Everything was a bit droopy:

Scott and I hopped into the truck and drove to Margo. We parked at my aunt Shirley's and strolled over to the auction, which we could hear from her place of course, Margo being a 3-streets by 5-avenues place.

Here's the scene from left to right:

Helper holds up items for bid.

People watch and listen. The auctioneer does his bit from inside this box on the back of his truck.

Between Shirley's and the auction, we stopped for a few words with my godmother, who was in her back yard. About the auctioneer she said, "I didn't know Jimmy could yodel like that!"

A lot of listening and looking goes on.

Shirley walked back to her place with us. She wants a new front door, so Scott took the measurements he needs.

Her little companion Marley barked until she picked him up so he could be at eye level with Scott, whom he wasn't too sure about.

I made a run into town after we got home. While I was there, it poured, and as I was driving out to the highway I noticed these ladies out planting flowers in one of the town beds. 

They hadn't let the rain slow them down one bit and they were finishing the job, by cracky!

It's Scott's night to take supper to his grandma in Kelvington, so he went off to do that and I went for an evening meander. I headed north:

This little mama is keeping her eight babies as far from me and my camera as possible. It's another one of those times I'm sorry I didn't take the binoculars along. Happens every time.  You'd think I'd learn.

Coltsfoot growing in the ditch turns its silvery back on you.

After a two-and-a-half-mile walk — even on a glorious evening — coming back to the yard feels damn good:

Even the dogs are glad it's over. We're all tuckered. I'm seeing mist where there is none. (Or...?)

The Korean lilac by the step is in full bloom. Its sweet scent could knock you over. During the day, the buzzing of the bees in this tree and the many other lilacs is super-loud. Makes me miss the frogs, which are quiet now. Just the red-winged blackbirds are constantly ringing their bicycle bells in my back yard.

And now the day is coming to a close. I've had a piece of cold chicken for supper and one of those Palm Bay cocktails (or two) for dessert. I've talked to Dad on the phone; he was making himself a spinach salad.

When Scott gets home, if he doesn't go straight back to installing cupboards, maybe we'll make some popcorn and watch some telly together.

Life is good, I tell ya.