If you’re nervous around bees, you could not sit out on the step with me this morning. The caraganas have finished blooming, but the lilacs are in full flight and there is a row of them along the west side of the lawn, as well as an incredible Korean lilac next to the step.
And the buzzing is loud. I consider bees to be welcome friends, and have no worries.
It’s not wine I’m drinking now, just black coffee. I’ve already strolled around the yard and down the driveway with my spray bottle in hand, killing all the tent caterpillars I spot. They are in my three oak trees, doing damage. I can’t reach the high leaves, but am doing what I can. It’s interesting how you can be looking right at the worms and not see them for a moment; they blend in so well.
It’s to be a hot day. All but two of my bedding plants are in their pots. “Just give us a home,” they said. “Put us where we’re going, and we’ll thrive.”
I love that feeling when they’re sorted.
I only came into the office to check email and look at the calendar, make sure there isn’t some place I have to go. But no, I’m free till Thursday, when there’s a mammogram appointment at the travelling bus in town, and a house concert at a friend’s farm in the evening. Can’t even bake bread today because it will heat up the house. That’s okay because I was digging in the deep freeze last week and found four or five loaves buried under a box. Bonus!
Back out I go. Another cup of coffee awaits.