Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Mockingbird Hill Cottage

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Civility, Books, Flowers & Humidity

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If you’re interested in a healthy alternative to the usual cookies out there, stop by my post about eating healthy on the go with Newtons.

lantana

lantana in the planter

Speaking first of yesterday’s post, I thought of another analogy. If I see someone wearing clothes I do not like, whether it concerns the style, the color or the way they look on that someone, I do not walk up to them and tell them what I think about their attire. I keep my mouth shut. A) it’s none of my business, B) it’s hurtful. Same for walking into someone’s home and commenting on how much I dislike their style of decorating. Are you kidding me? I would never do that. If I was with someone who did comment in a negative way, rest assured, they would be on the receiving end of a little tongue lashing from me. I’m a Scorpio. Need I say more? (I’m speaking of criticism re: design, style, etc.)

Manners. Civility. Compassion. Thinking before you speak.

Qualities we should all strive for.

limelighthydrangea

buds forming on the limelight hydrangea

The heat and humidity rages on here in the Northeast. I don’t remember, ever, humidity and heat continuing unabated for this long a period of time. Yes, we sometimes have 5 or 6 or 7 days of it, but then it breaks. Then we get several days of cooler, drier weather. Not this year. Part of the reason, but not all of it: the waters of the Atlantic Ocean are warmer than usual. I wonder why? (I’m saying that with tongue in cheek. I know why.)

With all due respect to those of you who do live in the South and love it, I’ve never wanted to live there for precisely this reason – I hate the combination of high heat and humidity. Yet, here I am living in New York state, engulfed in horrendous and, now, dangerous heat. And pity my poor husband, temporarily living in a dorm with no air conditioning. I feel stuck in the house, but at least I have air conditioning.

And then my thoughts turn to those who are homeless. I saw several in the immediate area surrounding our rehearsal space in Manhattan. How are they coping? I’m sure they are being transported to some sort of cooling shelter at night. That happens when the temperatures get dangerously high or low. I surely hope so.

So I complain, yes, but am immediately reminded that there are many, many people who are suffering much more than me.

prettydaylily

another pretty daylily

I gave myself the day off yesterday, since I was so darned tired after the weekend. I was still clad in my pajamas at 2:00 pm. I did a little reading, filled the birdbath, watered the seedlings, caught up with family members, vacuumed and swiffered. Today I have to snatch a little time in the morning to do a bit of mowing. Yes, I will do it before it gets too hot. I promise. I have to do a little each day or I will never be able to keep on top of it. Then I’ll start in on Macbeth.

By the way, I’m really enjoying Louise Penny’s books. She was suggested to me by a reader of this blog and I am very grateful for the recommendation. What a wonderful writer! Her mysteries take place in a small town called Three Pines in Quebec. I’d like to live in that fictional, charming town. (Except for the long, long winters.) Penny has created a wonderful cast of characters, many of them appearing in all of the books in her series. If you haven’t read these books, I recommend them highly.

In less than two weeks I head to Hartford. Again. I’m grateful for the work and the lovely people who work there, but the thought of being away for an extended period of time is more than a little overwhelming. Several of you have mentioned taking Scout with me. If I did that, she’d be away from her home and Don. Much better to keep her in the place she knows and loves. I do think, however, that they might visit for a few days here and there. Remember, Scout loves that park. And the elevator. And adventure. Even at 14½ years of age.

I hope you are staying cool, wherever you are. Drink lots of water. Read a good book. Stand in front of the fan or the air conditioner. Have a glass of lemonade. Eat a strawberry shortcake ice cream pop, like I did. You’ll immediately be plunged into memories of the Good Humor man. Remember the little melody that emanated from the truck? That you could hear faintly and then, after you were sure you weren’t hearing things, you raced into the house and asked mom for money for the ice cream man. Then you lined up with a bunch of other neighborhood kids and bought a push-up or a creamsicle or a fudgesicle or a strawberry shortcake. Now, that’s a good memory of summer!

Happy Tuesday

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What I’m Crazy For on a Monday

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coneflower

I’m certifiably coneflower crazy.

daylily

And more than a little daylily crazy.

But if we were holding some sort of contest, coneflowers would win. Daylily blooms, true to their name, last a mere day and then they’re gone. Gorgeous, especially the one pictured above, but fleeting. Coneflowers are beautiful, grow taller and taller each year and last for most of the summer. Then when winter comes around they provide food for the birds. And they spread. I mean, how can you not love these guys?

The three of us – Don, Scout and me – are enjoying a couple of days together before Don returns to Williamstown tomorrow. I know from experience that, after being away a few weeks, it’s a bit jarring to suddenly be back in your cozy permanent home for a couple of days after having lived in your not-so-cozy temporary home. When Don got home he kept saying, “It’s so colorful here. There’s so much color!” After living in the white-walled, stark rooms of his ‘dorm’ he was struck by all of the color that I take for granted here. Half of the time I don’t even see it because I’m so used to it.

But it’s a good reminder how powerful color can be. And you know that I love color; not for me the all white and neutrals look. Here we have splashes of red and turquoise and green and yellow and cream. Pottery is everywhere, some of it in sherberty McCoy colors, some it in the deeper blues and greens of Roseville. There’s a vintage laundry basket full of colorful yarn in the den. We balance it all out with the golden tones of our pine floors and oak coffee table, the darker finishes on the piano, sideboard and music cabinet and the creamy colors of some of the painted furniture. And that’s just the main floor.

Don’s been living in a dorm with a common room. No decorations, nothing on the walls, no air conditioning in this never-ending stretch of high humidity and high temperatures. Then suddenly, he’s back in our cottage, air conditioner whirring, color everywhere. A bit overwhelming, I think. I will be living in a neutral environment when I head back to Hartford. I understand. I, however, always pack pops of color that I can add to the rooms I’m living in. Don doesn’t. He’s a guy.

hummingbirdmoth

Changing the subject, yesterday I stood in front of the hanging plant on the porch and snapped dozens of pictures, all the while trying to capture the elusive hummingbird moth. He darted so quickly from flower to flower that I could barely keep up with him. This is the best of the bunch.

And I heard a little tapping way up in the catalpa tree and saw this beauty.

downywoodpecker

A downy woodpecker. Thank goodness I have my old camera, which has a telephoto option on its single lens. I keep it on the kitchen table just for opportunities like this one. This guy was way up in the tree.

A telephoto lens for my newer camera is on my wish list, but in the meantime, this does very nicely.

I’m also camera crazy.

Coneflower, day lily, color and camera crazy. That’s enough for today.

Happy Monday.

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Outdoors at the Cottage & the Power of a Good Book

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coneflower

The very first of my many purple coneflowers has bloomed. Coneflowers are in every garden bed around here and since they’ve gratifyingly reseeded themselves, they’re cropping up in some unexpected places, as well. I just love them. They are very cottage garden to me.

I’ve finished all the Deborah Crombie books except the very newest, which is in hardcover. I’m going through a little period of mourning. I find myself unable to commit to any of the other books that are sitting around here, ready and waiting to be read. This happens to me rarely, but it sure has happened with this series. I’ve grown to love the characters so much that I feel as if dear next-door neighbors have moved away. I want to hang out with these characters, to have tea with them in their home in London – I want to be their friend. I’ve been pressing my nose against their fictional windowpane and I want in!

Does that ever happen to you? Does a book or a series of books so enthrall you that you find yourself wanting to live in that world? It’s sort of a mixed blessing, but it certainly attests to the power of the well written word.

hostabloom

The hostas are sending up their flowers and will soon be blooming.

I went out in the early morning yesterday and mowed part of the lawn. It’s growing so fast because of all the rain we’ve had and I knew that with the 90 degree/90% humidity forecast for the day I had better get cracking early. Totally exhausting, this weather. I did get a nice chunk done and I’ll do some more today. But only in bits. Because this weather, which has hung on for days and days, is not the best or healthiest in which to do any chores. Don, my poor guy, is in a dorm with no air conditioning. The actors are miserable. It’s hard to sleep. Yesterday, he was scheduled for only a costume fitting, so he went to see a play in the afternoon and a movie in the evening, just to be in someplace air conditioned.

I would not be coping nearly as well as he is. I hate humidity.

lavender

The lavender planted in the raised bed by the kitchen door.

garden

The bee balm has spread this year and its splash of red really adds to the garden.

beebalm

See that wheelbarrow in the upper right hand corner of the photo? Several weeks ago, I lifted it and noticed a small ant hill under it. I lifted it yesterday and gasped out loud. There is a veritable city there. Look:

anttown1

Do you believe this? It’s fascinating. It reminds me of ancient pueblos or those Indian dwellings carved into stone in the Southwest. How do they do it?

Good thing I don’t have to use the wheelbarrow at the moment.

Happy Friday.

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Lambs Like to Party

Lambs Like to Party

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