the morning is mild and i think it will be a good day. i'm tired, but the sun will give me energy. edgar is eating on the porch. the kitchen door is open and it's a little untidy. there is a leftover mist in the air, from the fog of last night. it is a still day. and in a few minutes, i'll be stepping along my little path to the studio.

we have been painting my new little gallery space today. it's mostly finished. crisp white walls. tucked under a sloping ceiling. it's bright and empty. the wide warm plank floors give it just the roughness i need to love a room. collage and paintings are piled and waiting to glow against the new gallery walls. and i'm excited to see them quietly displayed so their best traits are emphasized. tracy's lovely little gallery across the hall, inspired me. a few weeks ago she and dave attacked her little room, painting and giving it a clean and new loveliness that let me notice her wonderful pieces in a new calm way. so i've been working to create my version of calm and white in my own little attic gallery. today it's painted.....i'll show photos when the work is hung. for now, a photo of edgar on the porch from this weekend is lovely too.

the windows are open! tom put the screens on while i was running a package across the border to mail in the u.s. i stopped to visit my aunt on the way back and came home to the load of white's that i'd put on the line before i left, perfectly dry and smelling divine, tom on the porch swing playing guitar, and all the windows in the house open wide. what a great way to come home. summer is really here when the screens are on and the windows are open. little fragments of conversation drift in the windows. voices and birdsong and neighborhood sounds.

now that the mornings are sunny, and even if they are still somewhat chilly.....i love throwing open the doors. my kitchen turns magically and delightfully into the outdoors during the summer. the door is always open, so puttering away inside doesn't make me feel like i'm chained to the sink. the sounds and the scents and the bright air make a constant flow into the house. there is nothing sterile about our existence. the neighborhood kids run in and out freely. and sometimes the cats as well. and then our own cats find it an opportune time to show off their hunting skills and bring dead or half-dead creatures strutting in the door. and i shriek like i'm being murdered. but it's all part of summer. floyd marched in last night while we were making dinner with a butterfly in his mouth.
i love our porch and our country-like garden and lifestyle sitting in the middle of the city.

i wonder if the city is going to threaten to ticket me again for my front yard. i'm breakfasting on yogurt and blackberries. and planning my day. lots of studio stuff. meagan's yard sale. a walk with edgar. laundry. shipping some quilts. but nowhere on that list is cleaning up the front garden for spring. it's an extra that i really don't have time for. now that i spend 50 - 60 hours a week at the studio, the time just isn't there. but that isn't the only reason. and maybe not the biggest reason. my garden full of herbs and perennials and mostly rows of lavender, was once lovely. and loved. i enjoyed spending hours in the dirt surrounded by the earthy spicy scents. neighbors wandered past. we chatted. they complimented the garden. i had a table with bunches of herbs and posies of flowers for people to take. i had a donation can for a local charity. the neighbors were generous. people even dropped off photo enlargements at my door of photos they'd taken of the garden and the give-away table.
and then a change happened. a slight shift. the white frame house next door that always had a quirky collection of students was torn down to accomodate a new craftsman styled bungalow. a beautiful home. but the process saddened me. i'm used to it now, and quite enjoy the lovely older woman who lives there. but the commotion of it being built, made me uncomfortable in the front of my house. and happier in the backyard. and then a woman with negative and nasty energy moved across the street. we are a small street with only 5 houses so one or two little changes makes a noticeable shift. and now i never use the front of my house. the front porch that i tried to bring back to it's happy former state last fall, is rarely used. i'm happier in my tree-ed private back yard that connects to the studio and has the tired swings and the porch and my little fire pit. i do miss my front gardens, but the joy has faded. and now i let them grow wild and although i enjoy their wild state, the hateful woman across the street, who ironically, is the biggest reason i'm not comfortable in my front gardens, has decided they don't suit her. i think she's afraid people will feel they are a reflection of her because she's chosen to live in this lovely neighborhood that she misunderstands so greatly. so i wonder how my gardens will grow this year. they are on their own. someday i may find the joy and the drive and the time to spend with them. but i love them either way, whether they are wild and weedy or verdantly floral.

as i drove home from the bookstore tonight, a storm was building. it seemed like it came from nowhere. the sky was flashing and the wind squealed. when i pulled into the driveway, there were swirls of dust whipping in the street. and the echo-ey metallic ping that sings from the flagpoles and boats in the harbor. the backyard chimes throughout the neighborhood changing from tinkly and dreamy to militant and sharp. there is a grumble that surrounds and thickens the air.
i made my way directly to bed when i came home. and even though i fell asleep swiftly in my happy crowded bed, the uneasiness of the night has me awake again, and sitting in the dark, soothing edgar and watching the sky erupt in the window.

i am going to make an odd proclamation. i believe that texting has improved our marriage. we are together alot. we spend most of our time at home together. and my studio is next to the house, so we don't have much time when we aren't around each other. but in the past year or so, we started texting each other for little things. reminders. and cute little comments. with hearts and smiley faces and kisses. our texts brighten my days. we check in on each other, say funny shit to each other. and it makes the heavy stuff feel lighter. and i'm reminded that i'm appreciated which sometimes can get forgotten in the rush of day to day.