Sammy and Sue cut the grass around the tent yesterday and the scent is wonderful coming through the shop windows this morning.
The mist was rising from the pond and creek when I got up this morning. A single strand of spider spun silk stretched from the trumpet vine on the house to a bloom of the weigelia. Thousands of silver misty beads were strung along its length, ephemeral pearls.
There has been a large orange spider living in the Virginia creeper above the back door. Every night she built a tidy web in the corner at the lintel, near the light, to catch the dozens of tiny insects attracted there. At dawn the web disappeared, to be reconstructed again in the dark. For the past three days there has been no web; the elegant spinner had vanished. This morning there was a tiny fragile web, higher in the corner, and a little silvery spider in the corner.
The colors in the fields are changing as red clover flowers turn brown and ironweed begins to bloom.
My partner is doing an antique show here in Patrick County, and last night he met a Congressman from a nearby district. I recognized the name; the gentleman didn't announce himself as a politican, of course. Ron seemed a bit surprised when I told him who his customer was. By and large our local politicians don't seem to get too uppity.
I was thinking yesterday that I'm really glad I'm not in my 30s anymore. My 40s have been great but my 30s were not fun.
My cousin brought me bags and bags of clothes the other day; I may never buy another stitch for myself again. And my uncle left a box of Moonglow pears on the welcome mat this morning, with a note to tell when they will be ripe!
This morning I made myself a tomato sandwich for lunch, from a fresh tomato right from my uncle's garden. A handful of cherry tomatoes to serve as a snack, with yogurt and fresh spring water.