Mockingbird Hill Cottage

A coolish Sunday morning with swallows circling, landing, and swirling up to the sky. We watched them as we sat on the front porch. Every once in a while we heard the sound of the wind chimes. Lovely.

I completely forgot that August 30th marked our 13th year of living here in Mockingbird Hill Cottage. Don tells me that is the longest he’s lived anywhere. 13 years! It was so hot that day and even hotter on the 31st when we had to drive back to our rental cottage and thoroughly clean it. We were so exhausted by the end of the day that, when we discovered some things that we had forgotten to pack, we were so over it that we put them out by the curb for someone – anyone – to take. We didn’t want to pack one more thing. We just wanted to get back to our new home. I remember it very well.

There were no gardens here then. The big garden bed was there, but it held two plants. There were some hostas – one by the porch, one on the side of the house –  and some sedum Autumn Joy. That’s it. As it was late in the season, we didn’t even try to tackle the garden bed. We cleared out a bed in front of the house and planted four teeny tiny boxwoods there and that was it. Those boxwoods are now huge – in fact, they really need to be pruned because they’re sort of out of control.

We changed out the wood block print that was here for this painting that Don purchased. It’s an interesting story. Someone Don was following on Instagram painted it. Don fell in love with it because it reminded him of road trips and driving out west, his favorite things to do. When he complimented the guy on the painting, he was told that it was the artist’s first attempt at oil painting and a conversation ensued with Don offering to buy it. The artist said that whatever Don wanted to pay was fine because he was just happy someone liked his painting. Don, of course, didn’t stint on the payment. An artist should be paid well for his/her work.

I think it looks stunning with the lamplight on it.

Makes me want to get in the car and drive west.

We watched John McCain’s funeral from start to finish and I can’t remember when I’ve been as moved. Simply beautiful and powerful beyond words. America as it should be and as we hope it will be again. And a stunning rebuke to the Trump administration and the partisan agendas that now characterize Congress. We were shaken and we most definitely cried; in my case, several times.

Happy Sunday.