It's a beautiful weekend in the neighborhood. Sun is shining. Humidity is (mostly) down. Projects are getting done. Strawberries are ripening. Kids are in a (mostly) good mood.
And then the oregano attacked. It's woody contours scratching my legs as I checked garlic and cleared weeds. This week, I will wreak my revenge. We will do battle which will end in lots of dried oregano and a few plants for a friend. There is only room for one Queen in this yard.
Peas are just as bad. They've massed. Entwined together to such a degree that when I brought over the dishwasher racks there seemed to be no hope of disentangling and forcing them to climb up into the sun before blossoming.
And some sad losses. Some squash were not strong and hydrated enough for planting in mounds by the asparagus. When I asked L. with his water lightsaber (no, I'm not making that up they do exist) if he could water a few, he trampled the weakest and managed to avoid the strongest. It's a tough darwinian world out there.
Lots of memories this weekend. Thinking about Grampa Vern, Grampa Sonny, and Grampa Palm. Lots of cleaning. Lots of resting with family and getting in a few games of Factory Manager and Tikal.
Maybe a few friends will come over and I can practice the art of frangipane.