I love summer. I think I am the only one I know that loves everything right down to the heat. I love to feel the warm sun hit my feet and arms as I hang wash or make my way across the yard to the little screened in 'house' my husband made for me a few years ago. I love to take my coffee and whatever I reading and, of coarse, my hooking. I love hearing the birds- this year we have an abundance of doves. We have a family with sheep behind us and I listen to the sheep 'baa.'
I am a bike rider. Love my bike. During the winter months- cold, wet, bleak- I long for the sunshine and the breeze hitting my face as I pedal. If my legs did not get so tired, I could ride for hours.
I love summer time memories of being a child- the outdoor vegetable market in Denver, Colorado- the fragrance of tomatoes and onions as I tagged behind my mother and father. I used to spend a lot of time at my grandmothers who had 'Five-O Clock' flowers that she and I would go see hand in hand- oh! and her grape arbor. There was a bed of pansies that I loved- the dark soil and an array of violets and yellows- it was magical to my little girl eyes.
On Father's Day, I sat on our deck talking with my husband and sons while I stitched this little tag for this rug. I kind of like it.