Monday, June 20, 2011

Celebrate, roses bloom again and understory.

1. "Don't you want to save it until you have something to celebrate?" wonders my father as I hand him the bottle of Champagne that we keep stashed in our fridge. Let's see... Last week, Rosey got her PhD and accepted a job offer in her dream location. Today it's fathers' day. Tomorrow is my birthday. The next day is midsummer. Then it's your ruby wedding, followed by Rosey's birthday, and Alec will be six months old. If that isn't an excuse to pop a cork, I don't know what is.

2. I love my June birthday because my parents bring roses from the garden -- and an assortment of wildlife. By the time we serve lunch, a spider has started building a web between two of the vases.

3. While we are admiring the artist's work, two boys -- one with a bow slung over his shoulder -- roll past our knees and commando-crawl under the sofa.

4. Clean white birch trunks glow in the wet garden.

Morning, errands and entertainment.

1. I murmur an acknowledging greeting to a passing bin man. He is a well brought-up African and replies with eye contact and a warm 'Goo...