If it's August it must be... Susan

Every August, Susan arrives at my cottage—with various friends and family—and sort of takes over for the next month, albeit in the nicest way.  She's quite a colorful character, unceasingly cheerful and completely "low maintenance"—in short, the perfect guest! Indeed, ever since we met nearly 12 years ago I've always looked forward to her stay here each year.

I think Susan delights in being here as well and always seems to enjoy the time she gets to spend outside in the gardens. She's quite a peripatetic guest in that regard and on any given day I can find her standing in the rear garden or perhaps in the front gardens, or just wandering down the side of the house where the patio is.  (I've even found her standing by the curb some mornings!) But she likes being inside as well it's always nice to spend time with her in the parlor, kitchen or verandah.

My neighbors have come to anticipate her arrival each year and I'm always happy to bring her over to their homes, knowing that she'll brighten up their time with her.  Sometimes when family or friends visit, I offer to send her back with them for a brief visit since, after all, it seems selfish to keep her to myself for nearly six weeks! 

Yes.... Susan arrives each August, bringing happiness, color and cheer. 

And while having someone stay for that long might seem tedious, 

I'm always sorry to see her go.  

Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things.

— Sara Teasdale 

I was thinking this morning of some of the 'beautiful and splendid' items I've received from friends and family over the past summer months... some were the result of their "cleaning out" frenzies, some were hostess or thank you gifts, and some were simply rooted in the random but heartfelt generosity that seems to surround me at every turn.

• A four-leafed clover, tucked into a note that found its way through the post 

• An enormous bag of oatmeal colored Wool-Ease yarn (I can hear the pitter patter of sock feet in my future)

• A bright red button that says "KEEP CALM AND CARRY YARN"

• An antique Black Currant Pastille tin

• A huge white canvas beach bag with a drawstring and pale blue strap handles 

• "If Walls Could Talk: An intimate history of the home" (I can't wait to start reading this!)

• A lovely cherry tomato plant (already potted, thriving, and ready to watch grow)

• A hand-me-down (albeit NEVER worn) fawn-colored suede vest from J. Peterman (Be still my heart) 

• A bouquet of cutting flowers including flag iris, peonies, and snap dragons

• "Just My Type: A book about fonts" (Don't laught... fonts are powerful things and it's utterly fascinating) 

• A miniature bee skep for my garden

• A bouquet of pink and white tulips  

• A white button with red letters that says "I'm patient BECAUSE I knit"

• A pot of bright red Bee Balm (with an errant Columbine tucked at its feet) 

• A home decorating book by Laura Ashley

• A plastic carry bag with silver zebra stripes (!)

•  A tea towel commemorating the Queen's Diamond Jubilee 

It's good to think back now and then on all the lovely things that pass from loved ones' hands into mine. And to remember to be grateful... not for the things themselves, although I certainly am, but for the kindness invested in them.

Life in the garden off the grid

There was no internet, no car, and not much money, but despite what some might consider a life of privation, the past two months have been blissful.

When you know you can literally sit at home for two months and do nothing, the temptation is there to do just that. But I've learned, each summer, to keep a small notebook, and to write down the things I accomplished at the end of each day.  (NOTE TO SELF: Getting up, brushing teeth, dressing and eating do NOT count.)

Keeping the little ledger up to date wasn't as labor intensive as it might sound, and it did help to look back now and then (especially on those days when I was feeling particularly indolent) and see that despite a proclivity for abject laziness, I had actually accomplished quite a bit in the days previous.  And not only the "house chores" I'd hoped to tackle, but also enough whimsical activity to make it truly seem like a screen-door-slamming summer holiday.

- Painting the verandah ceiling with a two inch brush so I could get into all the beadboard crevices -- it took four days

- Gardening

- Reorganizing the garden shed.. which is actually a garage, but with no car and a large garden, "garden shed" makes more sense

- Enjoying several tea parties in the garden with visiting friends and family

- Painting the kitchen walls and cabinetry 'Cottage White' to go with the black and cream 1930s subway tiles

- More Gardening
 
- Knitting a basketweave ivory baby blanket

- Riding a 19th c. carousel with four generations of my immediate family. (All were accounted for when the ride ended, including my mother)

- Celebrating several family birthdays

- Going through all the wonderful magazines that had been piling up unread throughout the cottage. (Mercifully I didn't come across any that said "LINCOLN SHOT!" on the cover.)  
   
- Knitting a pair of spiral tube socks for a friend's mother

- More Gardening
 
- Enjoying a cheap 'n cheerful dinner at a clam shack by the sea

- Driving up the Maine coast to visit family

- Sitting on the patio under a market umbrella with countless glasses of iced tea, watching the flowers grow, greeting the neighborhood cats, and being continuously amused by the squirrels (even when they ate my clothes line)

- Writing copious letters and cards to friends and loved ones

- Did I mention gardening? 

And all about was mine, I said,
The little sparrows overhead,
The little minnows too.
This was the world and I was king;
For me the bees came by to sing,
For me the swallows flew.

(Robt. Louis Stevenson)

Ma'am...

Fond greetings on the occasion of your

D i a m o n d   J u b i l e e

 To the Queen, gentleman.

Raise your glasses.