You can see some of the yarrow that is growing in the corral. It’s taller than this now, as this picture was taken last week. Interestingly, it has self-seeded on either side of the path that the dogs created. And that we use, as well. The path isn’t marked. It just is, and it’s as if the yarrow knew that.
Very hot and humid here in the Hudson Valley. We had very heavy rains yesterday morning (of course we did, the hydrangeas had just bloomed – another unwritten rule) but we managed to escape the thunderstorms predicted for the afternoon. I stayed indoors reading. As with the day after all ‘big events’ a slight feeling of letdown permeated the day. I was slightly irritable, my allergies were a pain in the tush, I didn’t know what to do with myself. And, most importantly, I couldn’t get those children being held in detention, aka concentration, camps at the border out of my mind. I can’t write about it. I’ll cry. It’s all I’m thinking about right now. And trying not to think about.
I was stationed on the sofa in the living room, reading The Diary of a Bookseller, which I’m really enjoying.
We installed the air conditioner in the office this morning. We’d held off on that one but it’s been really, really warm in there and I have lots of plants scattered around the room. Plus, Don keeps his guitars there. Too much heat isn’t good for them.
We’re going to take a little walk as soon as I finish this. We keep forgetting to do that and I want us to get back on track. Books, blogs, guitars, gardens – we’re quite easily distracted and, before we know it, the day has passed without a walk.
Happy Wednesday.
