we have just returned from a magnificent few days on the lake. the weather wasn't sunny the whole time, but it was wonderful nevertheless. edgar waded into the lake up to his chest whenever he wanted a drink. we swam. we went out in the boat. we had our friends come for sunday afternoon. we read for as long as we liked and woke with the loons. and we learned once more how fortunate we are to live in our lovely village with our wonderful neighbors.
i've spoken of my garden before. it's a wild little shrine of herbs that fills my front yard deliciously. and when i'm terribly busy in the studio as i've been this spring, it grows into a flurry of lemon and lime balm and queen anne's lace and hollyhock and sweet peas and hydrangea with all the blank spots filled in with grasses and what some might call weeds....tall and full and rather like a meadow. and there is also the woman who lives across the street (i won't grace her with the title of 'neighbor'). she is of the very awkward suburban persuasion, that believes one clipped and trimmed aesthetic should govern all. she has made several unsuccessful attempts to bring the city into my garden. however, this weekend, after we had left for our mini holiday, a bylaw infraction was slapped on both our house and the studio property, stating that the grass was too long and the trimming and weeding had to be completed by monday or a fine and fees would be applied. our neighbors not only took the notices off our doors and let us know what was happening, but went to work trimming and cutting and weeding and completely eliminating any legal issues that the city could possibly cite us with, while maintaining the free and fresh and meadow-like garden that i love so much. so that we could enjoy the vacation we'd planned at the lake. my eyes well up when i think of how they stood up for us, working together so we could have our vacation uninterrupted. they came to the cottage on sunday and we had a perfect afternoon together. and we were reminded yet again how fortunate we are to live in our little village with our amazing neighbors that we love so much. and we're happy to be home. i even got a few hours in the studio this evening. and as i was coming home through the back yard, the entire yard was alive with lightning bugs. there must have been 25 of them. they flew all around me, lighting up right by my cheek. i just sat on the porch and watched. and breathed and smiled.

above our harbour, the skies have been darkening and rumbling and building a drama, a heavy and a humid drama. we were racing around town doing errands, watching the storm form over wolfe island. as we drove the sky would glow and shake and growl.
and then we were home. the boats seemed so calm and settled, even when the lightning started. we could see the rain falling in cloud form, across the lake. and now it's moved across the water to us. our windows are open and the lullaby of rain is filling the rooms. i'm drinking lavender soda. and watching 10 hours of dvr-ed wimbledon tennis. with the gentle pitch and quiver of summer rain as my background music.

i'm feeling the momentum build as i work steadily in the studio. my workroom is busy and chaotic. and the days of sewing are full and productive. towers of freshly cut squares. tea towels. little lavender pillows from fabric scraps. and piles of quilts. quilts of all sizes. it makes me happy watching each quilt emerge with it's own combination of color and pattern. almost as soon as they are made, they are sold. there is a satisfaction knowing they are loved in their new homes. and i am tired even while exhilerated.

my grandmother was almost 98 when she died. and there is a flowering bush that grows at the back of our yard, that always makes me think of the last summer that she was alive. and one particular day is strong with memories of my last real day with my grandmother. just the two of us having the sort of breezy and ephemeral moments we did best. i lived with her all my life practically. i was 7 when she moved to canada to live with us. there was no mystery between us. she was always tiny, but in the last few years of her life, she was practically fetal. she weighed between 50 and 60 pounds and osteoporosis had bent her in half. my parents brought her to spend the afternoon with me that day. she sat in her wheelchair on the porch. i wheeled her out in the garden under the trees with flowers and birds surrounding her. i covered her hat with peonies and she laughed and just enjoyed the perfection of a summer day. she spent hours going through the bunches of flowers i brought her, picking out all the blossoms that were past their prime. we watched the cats play in the sun. gala romped around the yard and delighted her. we just spend the afternoon together. and after a lifetime with her, this is one of my strongest and sweetest and dearest memories of us alone together. just an afternoon enjoying each other.

it's been a lovely weekend. a little bit of lazyness on the porch. a lovely dinner with my parents for father's day. gorgeous weather. and now it's back to work, which, fortunately, is just as lovely for me. i love getting back to work.

the school year is winding down. you can feel the anticipation in the air. if you're looking for the perfect year-end teacher gift, you may want to visit the studio. lots of breezy and fresh cotton napkin sets. one of a kind moleskine journals. pendants. and everything is packaged ready to give. i'm not always there....i have another job....but email me or phone me to make sure i'm there and come by.

and enjoy summer!!! off i go to walk edgar and get to the studio.

tom is on the porch playing guitar and singing ryan adams songs. i'm wandering barefoot through the yard taking photos. it's a beautiful morning. this afternoon we'll have dinner with my sweet daddy. and bring some wood home for projects i've been planning. but right now in this moment, the morning is supremely still and lovely.

edgar got me up at 2.30 this morning. barking at the sounds of night in the backyard through the open window. i didn't fall asleep again until 4.30, and then he was up again at 5.15. he was just restless and wanted to go outside. so i came out with him and slept for 4 delightful hours swaying under quilts on the porch swing. it was wonderful. he woke me up a few times barking, but the birds and the squirrels and the twitter of the leaves with the scent of peonies and climbing roses and honey locust trees all lulled me right back to sleep. and when i was finally awake for the day i lay on the swing watching wave after wave of mist float into the garden. at first i was worried the studio was on fire. and then maybe our very own house, because it was as dense as smoke. but it was a soft pale mist blowing past in waves. what a lovely way to wake up. and although i imagine it will be a groggy day, i loved the way it started.
oh yes, writing this made me forget that 1/2 an hour ago, stella and floyd brought a snake into the living room that is now in our cold air return vent. the drama of the day has begun!!!!