I picked up some milk just now in preparation for the July long weekend that we decided to stay in Edmonton for. I did not fancy lining up on the highway to Banff and so it's best that we do the ordinary family stuff like helping my dad with his garden tomorrow. Younger boy will become my dad's garden buddy for a bit and maybe mum will come home to my place if she wants to.
Rebecca might be home on Sunday since we are not going hiking this weekend.
Since summer is just a crow flying overhead and gone we have to utilize the sunny days well. Next weekend will be less likely to have tourists trampling the hiking paths so we will do the hiking next week.
Our house is boiling hot despite the open deck door. The massive weight of heat is parked mostly in my writing room where my geraniums are bursting out into major conversations. I still have to do the award application that is sitting on my desk but not right now.
Tomorrow I will be busy in the garden as there is a ton of plants that seem to have been fighting it out with the crab grass clumps. I will dig out the grass. Hopefully it won't be too buggy.
It's so nice to have my library books stacked in a pile by the fireplace downstairs. When I get a bit of time, I simply open a book and read. If you have had a childhood with very few books it's like a dream come true to go to the library and find any book you could possibly wish to read right there. Sometimes I feel that this must be heaven.
Meanwhile younger boy is still sluggish. We have not yet done his thyroid test which I hope to do on Tuesday. He is not very energetic.
Outside the lovely breeze is plucking the strings of the firs and shifting them just a bit from here to there. The coastline of rocky clouds are gone. There is only sea outside. The muttering of the leaves is turning to a slow drawl. What is a home? A place where there is a garden clasped around the belly of a house. The best things in life are at home--and my circle of influence is in the family and extended family. Outside the home the rocking horse of the world keeps moving back and forth like a ceaseless machine. I leave that rocking horse to rock in place until the end of time. The only way to be in the world is as yourself without any intent other than to be yourself. All the noise of the rocking horse is very far off now. It's all calm and still here.