Josie at the Library Again!

Hey! Guess what! The library playground is open and all the toys are back!

Now that I am four, this is how I go up the slide.

And down!

After story time, I saw some other kids in the playground.

We played some,

It was fun!

Then I went inside where there were some more kids. We played with the trains for a while.

I brushed Fluffy.

And drove the car... 

Then I did a puppet show for Meema.

                           

Before I left, I put my name on the wall so people would know who was here--me, Josie!

 

What Is Normal Anyway?

Sneaking back into life. I'm catching up with long deferred routine maintenance (hair cut twice, teeth cleaned, yearly general checkup, x-rays of my failing right knee, and next on the agenda, an eye exam. On a positive note, I've aged out of the routine colonoscopy.)

But my longtime ophthalmologist has retired. How dare he! I should have expected this--my longtime dentist retired several years ago, my long time GP passed away (a sad loss for the community and all her patients.)

As I venture farther afield, I'm reminded that life is going on: with or without me; things are changing, many of my old landmarks are disappearing, and once familiar scenes are utterly and uncomfortably different.

And I remind myself that I'm lucky to still be here and capable of noticing the changes, many of which are positive--even if I miss the way things were. 

Except the colonoscopy. I don't miss that.

 

Flower Time

 

And Lo, It Came to Pass

 

Three years ago I blogged (see post HERE) about planting Siberian Iris alongside some stone steps  and envisioning a future spring when they would provide a cascade of purple--a waterfall of bloom beside the Stairs of Doom (as these perilous stone steps are called.

And now here it is!

Gardeners' visions can seem so real--a bed of tiny seedlings amid lots of mulch is already a glorious herbaceous border in the gardener's eye. And maybe it will be. Or not. The ghosts of failed visions are everywhere in my landscape--the roses that required constant spraying, the delphiniums that wasted away in the heat, the beautiful border of hardy pink roses that became inundated with poison ivy, the deep red Nova Zembla rhododendrons that the deer destroyed, . . . oh, I could keep on at length, summoning up these leafy spirits but it's too depressing.

My evolved landscape and gardening is Darwinian--the survival of the fittest. And Siberian iris are survivors. As are daffodils. Tulips and hyacinths and many other bulbs simply don't make it past two (if I'm lucky) seasons. Daylilies and iris do well for me.

Of course there is always change. After forty-some years, places that once were sunny, are shaded. Beds that had room for annuals are crowded with shrubs. The gardener can no longer kneel to weed or even bend over for too long. She does what she can . . .

But there is a waterfall of bloom by the Stairs of Doom!

Birthday Party!

It was a very small party but the highlight was some actual kids! A two and a half year old little girl was there and after initial shyness (her first visit,) she and Josie had a great time. 

I'm just posting the pictures without commentary as we have friends coming for dinner (such a social whirl!) and I need to go do cooking things. But I think you'll see what  fun we all had.