Saturday

I woke up this morning to a soft rain, gentle wind, and puffs of crepe myrtle pink scattered on the grass, a nature party!

I stayed up late watching Trevor Noah, a Saturday Night rendition of 45 in Phoenix, and La Esclava Blanca, on which I'm hooked.  Gerlinde tells me there are 62 episodes, so I will return to Columbia and these beautiful people of the 1800s when I return from Connecticut.  As far as I know, having no TV to tell me otherwise, the flight is still on for tomorrow!

Edward stayed late, too, to hang a few of my coconut masks and finish the painting, and I'm so happy with the results of this summer-long project!

I have a framed picture of my daddy fishing when he was way younger than I am now--and other pictures will find their ways to the walls when I return from the trip, then I'm calling it done.  A dining room rug will be delivered while I'm gone.  I hope this is The One--as seven other wanna be rugs didn't make the cut.  I'm pretty sure it is.

Finding The One in a rug is about as hard as finding The One Man or The One House for house-shoppers.  But I found my One Little House twenty years ago and it's been a love match from the start.  Unlike men and other human beings and myself, it's always here, its quirks are fixable and it loves attention.

Freda came over for a breezy visit on the porch this morning and introduced me to CLASSICAL STRETCH--a yoga alternative that I'm looking forward to starting, watching the teacher on YouTube.

The bougainvillea is so beautiful, a burst of bright pink that drapes over my driveway like a big umbrella.  It needs trimming, but I hate to diminish it right now, even to get into the driveway--it was a gift from Kate years ago and this is its prettiest year.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood--just crossing my fingers that the flight will happen tomorrow!

But first--as always--a nap.