Saturday

Laura and I went to the old house and brought back a shopping bag of fall blooming crocus,

scoins of the three bulbs my dad bought in 1946, for a third of a week's pay.

The flower tower looks mighty nice this year.

Don't know what we will do with it.

We planted the bag full of crocus in the back half of our garden.

Just wait, in two or three years they will be coming up through the wooly thyme ground cover.

Homecoming is in two weeks.

We went with good friend Gia to a shop that recirculates prom dresses.

They ask for a donation, twenty dollars for short dresses, forty for long.

After the prom, we can take the dress back for another girl to use.

A grape?

"You're OK with a bare midriff?"

This question went back and forth.

One of us wasn't.

Hint--not me.

This family of shoes came in.

The little girl's strappy sandals caught my eye.

But the story was sisters in Converse and flats. 

The flats picked out a dress and asked Converse to try it on,

"So I can see how it will look on me."

Converse refused, because Converse would spoil the look.  

And back in the real world, here is the pick.

Laura used to have a pair of Converse.

I wonder what became of them.

The week in review

I don't know what happened to the week. It's as if I've been in slow motion, watching the world speed by.

I emptied the little loom of towels; it's folded up and stored away. As I stuffed the little guys in envelopes last night I realized there was no picture of the last of the towels. Here they are, six of the colchium lavender's already gone.

The village post office, where it all happens.

I remembered the camera this morning; the last sunny day for several is forecast. Actually, the last sunny fore-noon. Outside the post office.

Outside the town hall. I posted one on the website as Autumn Gold.

When I left the building, the rain had begun. I took a series of pictures through the raindrops on the lens. In review, they weren't the least interesting.

A local restaurant, after I dried the lens, all shiny from the rain. 

Up the hills out of the valley, home past the golf course.

Grey.

I've been working on pictures of the tree trunks on the golf course.

As far as the eye can see.

I wonder how often golf balls rebound into the golfers' noses and eyes?

Back home, the begonia's had a happy summer.

The gerbera step daisy has another two blossoms unfolding.

And in today's mail?

Bonanza.

The first of two packages of fall bulbs from Holland.

Anemone, and lots of them. The bulbs Laura and I planted in the rain last year were so happy I have more, more, more to join them.

Last year was cold and wet; we read the instruction to soak the little darlin's overnight before planting and smiled as we poked holes in the squelchy earth. Everyone was happy.

The colchium report

Only two years ago Dad's "air blooming lilies" were crowded in a weed infested bed by the porch.

Moving them was part of the great garden makeover.

They had multiplied so in thirty years that every shovel full brought up half a dozen bulbs.

We replanted hundreds, and gave away a hundred or two more.

They are all reported to be blooming now.

Some have been through adventures.

At least two friends set them aside

And later found the persistent little bulbs exploding from the bag!

One sent me a picture.

 This is the second year in the new home in the garden.

They get along well with the woolly thyme.

And the yuccas.

There is no stopping yuccas, either.

The chipmunk nibbled the first crocus up,

But now there are just too many to keep up.

Many of the bulbs have doubled.

A colchium abundance.

Pig still has his impatiens.

This week's towels. Natural.
I find I don't like them as well as I thought I would,
All texture and no tone.
So utilitarian. So Shaker.
But, it is what it is.

And I picked out a cone of colchium to finish the warp.