Do You See What I Saw?

It's the first blueberry!  Well, not the first blueberry ever, of course, but 2014's first ripe blueberry on my blueberry bushes.  I'm kinda reluctant to pick it... but I'll manage.

The daisies and bee balm are celebrating life and inviting pollinators from far and wide, and the milkweed buds are starting to open.  (Here, butterflies! *makes kissing sounds*)  See the lovely backdrop of weeds and lipstick lilies?  Somebody needs to weed.  And tie up the tomatoes.  Hmm. *taps lips with finger*  Who could that be?  The yarrow and spiderwort are doing their part too.  The spiderwort flowers are only open in the early morning and the yarrow is one of those plants teetering on the boundary between flower and weed but I like their enthusiasm and the way they look together.

It was quietly busy at work yesterday, more stocking than selling, but I managed to make the day go by.  I used a paint pen to mark sizes on the new rental wetsuits but I'm not thrilled with the outcome.  I was thinking I should drag my sewing machine that also embroiders to the dive shop and use it to embroider the sizes on the zipper flap.  It's thin and hidden so we could find the size easily but it wouldn't be visible when the suit is worn and it wouldn't wear off quite as easily.  Maybe I'll bring home a scrap of thin neoprene and experiment first.  Yeah, that's an idea.

July 8--Lyon & Healy, Pedal Harp.  Marian followed the sound of music down the alley behind the bakery.  She came to a stone wall with roses tumbling over the top of it like curls over a baby's forehead.  The music came from behind the wall.  She wanted to see who was making the music and on what.  She looked right and left.  The alley was clear but for a small wooden crate.  It wasn't too heavy so she dragged it to a spot where the roses were lowest, upended the crate, made sure it was sturdy enough, and climbed up.  She was just tall enough to see over into the garden filled with flowers and shady trees.  Stone paths wound around the garden beds and in a shaft of light an old man sat playing a harp.  Marian stood on tiptoe trying to see better, pulling on the rose vines.  She was so intent that she didn't feel the thorns scratch her hands.

Haven't got a clue what happens next, that's where the idea petered out and died.  *sigh*  Oh well, sometimes they do that.  We get to meet with our broker today.  Yippee.  As long as there isn't a long line of zeroes on the monthly reports, or minus signs, I'm happy but that stuff means something to Durwood and he likes to go and talk to like-minded people, so he made an appointment at a time when I can come along so I will like to talk about it too.  Numbers dance for him, for me they just lay there gasping.  Not my idea of a fun time, but I'll go, I'm a good sport.  No, really, I am.  Most of the time, anyway.  Time to go pick that blueberry.  Adios!
--Barbara