Just tearing out the Wadena News page containing three memoriam verses for Mom ... I start to cry. Joan put it so well when she said, “I miss her rotten.”

So I brought my notebook outside to the swing on the grass, where I am comforted somewhat by the beauty of nature. Kirsten, the cat we brought from Karen’s sometime this past year, has joined me on the swing and although I should throw her off so she doesn’t get in the habit and leave the cushion covered with hair, I welcome her warm weight on my thigh and the sound of her contented purr. Sara the dog lays faithfully at my feet and we are surrounded by birdsong.

It’s a beautiful day, sunny with a cooling breeze. I can hear Scott’s brother Bruce around the farmyard with the quad. He must’ve just gone past the stallion, which whinnied loudly in anticipation of food or water.

Scott spent yesterday shingling with Benny, one of our bachelor neighbours who sometimes works with him. They arrived here around suppertime and Everett brought three cold beer up from the basement fridge for we adults, who sat on lawnchairs on the deck. We were swarmed by mosquitoes although I am pleased to report that not all of them seem to bite me. They often check me out, only to bugger off. Scott was irritated enough that I hope it spurs him on to getting the deck closed in sooner rather than later. The sliding glass doors were delivered today so there is nothing stopping him now except a lack of free time.

A European starling has confiscated the sparrows' nest in the eave outside the bathroom window. I hear it scramble frantically to get out of there every time I walk into the room. It then alights on the nearest poplar tree, where I can see it.