[mural on the town's main street]

1:45 p.m.

Petra and the girls are coming late this afternoon, and I am trying to get the boys’ room slogged out for them. Sheets are in the washing machine, books and toys are picked up and organized, you know the drill.

Don is finishing up his brunch, which was my can’t-keep-it-in-the-house granola and fresh fruit salad, followed by two bowls of fagioli soup. As soon as he’s done, he’s off to clean the bathroom.

Barney’s started the vaccuming, and I planned to clean the kitchen but Farmbeau has already beat me to it by washing a sinkful of dishes. So I can carry on making up beds for our guests and trying to get my head wrapped around what to make for supper today and tomorrow. I’ve pulled out a couple roasts to put in the slow cooker for tomorrow’s supper, and some steak to barbecue tonight.

Out came the weinies; we’ll make a fire and let the kids roast their supper tonight after a trip to Grandma’s, where Don is going to stay overnight. He’s wanted to stay there and won’t get another opportunity this summer unless it’s sometime this week.

This way, Petra and five-year-old Dinah can have the boys’ beds. She’s bringing her tent so Barney and Angie can camp out the next two nights. And as soon as the boys have their household chores done, we’ll go to town to pick up fresh stores of milk and whatever else strikes my fancy.

I intend to buy a bottle of tequila and the fixins for margueritas, including a set of marguerita glasses if there are any to be found. We need a change from the usual white wine we drink, or the peach cider.

Went out to the garden shortly after getting up this morning about 8:30. Picked up the stirrup hoe and dragged weeds out by the root as I walked through the rows, admiring the hearty green plants that thrill me every time I stay away for a day or more, when one can see a noticeable change in their size. When I got hot I weeded in the shade, then leaned on my hoe and surveyed the garden and gazed up at a wispy cloud floating overhead. Such gratitude and satisfaction fill these moments, when life is nothing but good.

Pet is going to stay only till Monday, since they have no one to care for their bozo dog after that, and she doesn’t want to bring it out here, where it would have to stay outside and might make a pest of itself by whining constantly to come in, or barking at the cattle.

Anyway, I don’t imagine I’ll be journalling any while Petra’s here.

etc
Kate