It is all about timing Fifteen degrees this morning, cool for this time of the year. Prepare breakfast, catch up on news, messages Check weather forecast – a fifteen Km wind from South East predicted Looking at the clouds it’s actually South West.
The warm up The sun rises and warms our front porch Doves, sparrows arrive and hover about our bird feeder. Cat biscuits and wild bird seed pecked. I don’t provide the coffee.
No rain, so a bike ride for me – to meet squawking pukekos, gliding heron and the raucous magpies.
Our Hottest Day
Repeated for the last three days. 32°.
I tried a bike ride, came home quickly, baked.
Jumped into our river instead, just upstream from the rest of Thames, happy, shining, glistening families.
And me, his Poppa? Amused ~ I’m not at all perplexed.
from Our Back Deck
The sunshade cloth has long been up
The setting up reminding me of the sailing ship days, the rigging I read about from borrowed books in my early teens – I have long since sailed into old age.
Contented pensioner-hood.
Shade cloth aloft, our back deck is still hot. It is our ‘summer seat’ for meals, visitors, that extra coffee.
It is from where I gaze across the back garden at jobs undone. But guilt sleeps in the summer heat.
From this back deck I look at individual plants, their bright, cheerful summer flowers, most of which I don’t know their names.
Nearby, quite prominently a light green display
“What is that?”
The reply is patient, clear, “It is a fennel seed head.”
Thence the contrasting sentiments on my social networks
“Great pic, but yuk!”
“Oh that makes a great herb for . . .”
Summer time
Coffee is drained. Shade cloth ‘n all pur back deck is hot.
Family Sunshine Making our way downhill. A field of daisies Daisies nodding, weaving about in a vigorous breeze Blue Sky
Next the call of Canadian geese. Beautiful in flight In tight formation they circle, calling to each other. Locals shoot them. They foul our waterways, restricting the life of native species.
To steady ourselves we carry sticks, walking poles. The stability. The comfort, a reassurance of grasping something.
Not long ago, alive with energy, , I’d rush down that slope. Stride up again. It was all about energy, that zest for life. I’d see very little about medium.
Below us a contentment of ducks drift across the dam, which is lazily eking it’s way through rocks, plants, debris, into an unhurried stream.
When I was seven, I was told, “You must clean your teeth!”
Regularly – told and brushed that is.
Now that I’m older, much older, I enjoy cleaning my teeth. I feel completely dressed, ready to face the day.
Yesterday, a visit to my dentist. One of those regular checks. You never know, the Apocolypse could be tomorrow. Must have clean teeth.
While there (always a pleasant ‘mouth open’ chat, families, trips away, etc). While there, he cleaned my teeth. Sure, with a buzzy brush and a classy toothpaste.
To the cost of thirty five coffees.
I came home. My teeth so far have been cleaned twice today.
Winter Too cool to ride An E Bike, yes But no provision for heated handlebars
Sunny day – I’m like a kid out of school Out I go On the trail The loved and familiar sounds Sights Contented cows Munching Always munching
David in Pen and Pics 