Our little cottage on Widder Island smells of fresh baked bread, and fresh cut grass.
The rain has stopped long enough for our front lake to revert to a yard and there’s even bits of blue sky floating among the tumbling clouds. (I do have my doubts about those blue bits though)
There’s a tray of large-cut veggies baking in the oven. (liberally seasoned with our own version of cajun seasoning)
I’ve managed to write a couple’a hundred words for the new novel.
My lungs are still not up to a lot of exertion or evening air so I’m winding down my day with a smile on my face. (days like this one are to be treasured, savoured, marrow-sucked even, ‘cos who knows what tomorrow will bring)
I wish you a day like today, wherever you are in the world and whatever you are doing. 🙂
Feeling bleggh about the whole cancer thing … but overall … we’ve had five glorious days of Spring sunshine here in the Lower Mainland. This is notable because this area, climatically speaking, is a rainforest!
Lawnmowers are buzzing in the distance like a swarm of Steampunked bees. Daffs are blooming in the garden like there’s no tomorrow. A few geese and ducks have landed on Widderlake as they follow the sun back to their usual haunts far to the North. No trumpeter swans yet, but I have my binoculars at the ready.
Our neighbours must think we’re a little bonkers. Last Autumn Mrs Widds and I regularly stood on our front lawn (too many trees in the back yard to see much of anything) and got kinks in our necks watching huge flocks of ducks, geese, and swans drift across the southern sky.
We haven’t been pooped on yet this year, but I have high hopes! It’s good luck.
“I never met a chocolate I couldn’t eat” – Danielle Steel, novelist