Literature took me to Africa and London and Surrey, seeing war, now and then, up close and personal, through characters who are creeping around the back of my brain, even as I've moved on to artists and their modern day misery. I updated the sidebar, if you want the titles and authors; these are all recommended reads.
I wish you could join me on the patio in the morning. There's plenty of shade and plenty of sunshine and the pool is warm and crystal clear. My flower pots are coming into their own, framing the scene with pink and white, gomphreda blowing in the breeze. The birds are all the music I need, the words on the page the only company.
Did I mention it's been a very nice weekend?
I thought deep thoughts, and smiled at a day which began with them and then I called JannyLou and Fast Eddie to come over for breakfast. They're leaving tomorrow and they have no food and I love making breakfast and, once again, a delightful confluence of events made it a very nice weekend.
It just got better. I had lunch with Scarlett and Mr. 10 at North, discussing politics and basketball, discovering that the waiter might be a distant cousin on Grandpaw's side of the family, passing on dessert because Amster and Mr 12 met us for ice cream across the way. I ran into an old yoga acquaintance, and the kids greeted friends, and we talked about parenting and respect and it all had that summer-is-just-beginning feeling.
Now I can watch the basketball game and worry about Steph Curry's knee and talk to Big Cuter and bask in the Facetime kisses FlapJilly bestowed on her Grandparental Units this afternoon, Granparental Units who are having a very nice weekend.