Sunday, August 31, 2014

A walk

We decided to take walk for no reason other than we could. Our first stop was the end of our street to once again admire the work of our artist friend as well as his beautiful flowers.

Ptah II was asleep in another friend's window. He's not for sale.

Around the corner there's another café (not La Noisette, my home away from home) where no matter how hot it is, there's a breeze. We found another friend and we had coffee together. She told us a wonderful story about giving roller skates to a lovely little boy who didn't have any but she saw him watching other little boys who did, but she asked him to water her flowers in return. Skates and a value lesson all in one. Kids love her as well they should.

At this point we met up with my housemate who is here for a few days. She walked with us. A treat.

Then onto check on the allotments to see how the veggies are doing in late summer. Lush and well.

A peek at the "river" through my favourite bridge. Discussion on bull rushes and cat n' nine tails, what do you call them. Moses's basket was no where around. Think whatever you want to call them, they would look lovely in a tall, tall vase. We didn't pick any.

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The gatepost lion reminded me of the pair I bought from Cape Cod and flanked our dining room fireplace on Wigglesworth Street. Still love the sound of that address. (Named for a doctor of dermatology at Harvard Medical, which was across the street from the house.)

Met a Swedish friend and chatted.

Quartet of birds soon to be replaced by at least 50 swooping back and forth. Alfred Hitchcock was no where around, thank goodness.

Stop at A 10 Bal, to pick up window washing stuff plus security toilet paper for our security toilet paper (always good to have lots on hand) and paper towels for Rick's window-washing method. 

BRII (before Rick II) it would take me years to go through a roll of paper towels. I used one or two sheets for the few times I cooked bacon never for where a sponge or a cloth would work.

However, if Rick is washing windows he can decide on the method. I suspect he bought the squeegee to humour me, but that's okay. The windows will be clean and I won't have done it.

Then back to the computers and to prepare for tonight's dinner party with friends of said housemate who are visiting from the UK, the friends, not the housemate.

Life is good.












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