Some people really know how to get the most out of Summer. I can’t say I milk it quite as assiduously as Gracie, stretched out on the patio here, but I am enjoying it. Seems like I have to have a “productive” bit of work going on in order to allow myself breaks in which to soak up the colors and fragrances of the season. Not very mathematical these breaks: Is there some statute that says a break can’t occupy more hours than the work, especially when the work involves going to the paint store, which happens to be not real far from The Pastry Peddler, home of the best croissants in the Midwest? I’d like to say that because of my years as an hourly worker and manager of hourly workers the little clock ticking away at the back of my brain calls me to savor each moment of my break times, to appreciate the pinkness of pink, the balminess of Bee Balm, but I’m probably nowhere near the Zen master that Gracie is, even though she’s color-blind. Speaking of bells, though, when I wrote this months ago I must have wanted to announce the arrival at our Basswood tree of Tess’s birthday present, the industrial strength wind chimes. HUH!? This sat here in blog limbo for like 10 months. I’m publishing it as is, cuz I don’t remember where I was going with it and I have another post to start, and maybe even finish.
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