It’s late as I write this, having just returned home from a beautiful Graduation ceremony at the school where I’m employed. I haven’t even looked at all the photos I took, but I did work on the main one, the one of the Senior class. The boys wear dark suits and our girls are in white dresses. Each girl is given red presentation roses which only adds to the glamour.
The photo turned out fine, which was really a huge relief for me. I could never be a wedding or event photographer because I wouldn’t be able to cope with the anxiety. I just don’t want that kind of pressure.
Today was beautiful, if not just a little gray, and that was fine with me. The breezes were sweet and we had a little bit of rain last night which wasn’t enough to make a huge difference, but any little bit helps.
My husband suggested we move the hanging baskets from the back porch and put them under the dogwood tree. So I did.
And then he moved everything from the spots I had them in, which I thought looked very fine, as evidenced by the photo above. They’re now in different spots which don’t have the same aesthetic quality, and you all know I strive to be aesthetically correct in all that I do and say.
I’m being sarcastic in case you hadn’t noticed. And I’m not moving the plants again because wherever he wants them is fine with me. A battle over plant placement is just silly, I think.
The garden is going strong. The peas are wonderful and we’re picking bags full of them. Of course, I’m using the term ‘we’ loosely here. The lettuce is done – we had our last salad Friday night and marked the occasion with my husband saying “the lettuce is done”.
He should have been a speech writer.
We have our first morning glory. Crazy early, too. Daryl, eat your heart out.
I stayed in my pajamas and summer robe until well after 9. In fact, I believe I still had my pajamas on and my coffee in hand when I shot these photos this morning.
The corn is getting high. My husband is picking peas on the left there. If it were sunny, he’d have on his Amish straw hat.
Amish is pronounced Ohm-ish. Not Ame-ish. I used to say it the wrong way, and then I moved to Amish country and learned much about them. In fact, one day I was paid a small fortune by a young Amish man who hired me to drive him around to about 8 different places where he got all of his business done in a couple of hours rather than the entire day it would have taken him in his horse and buggy.
He worked for my husband on a horse farm when we lived in Pennsylvania. But enough of that story.
I’ve really got to get some sleep..
Have a great week, all. Thanks for stopping by today ~
By the way, the birdhouse you saw in the first photo is available at Eldreth Pottery. I received this one as a Christmas gift one year and I love it.