and happy bees on the sunflowers.
(He's up there near the top.)
It means tomatoes all over the windowsills,
and piano bench.
(Don't tell Ri I used some of these photos before she got a chance to tweak them.)
It means putting extra produce everywhere you can.
When you're doubly blessed it means volunteers, like this roma, that nearly outproduce everything you planted on purpose.
It means okra blossoms - which I happen to love.
It means getting the opportunity to watch a tomato go from a bloom...
...to a baby...
...and then to a delicious tomato.
This is a purple calabash. You can see the progression from the uniquely shaped flower, to the fluted tomato.
Summer means you get the chance to see that progression frequently.
It means canning the wonderful abundance of tomatoes God has blessed you with.
For my brother, who isn't allowed to plant,
it means getting creative in order to find more room to help produce some of his own food.
Unfortunately, summer can also mean excessive heat, which limits what we are willing to do outside to just the bare necessities. I've spent the last several days in the air conditioning, creating my own sunflowers.
These are the dresden plates for Ri's quilt. Once I laid out all the little piles of petals I didn't want to keep moving them, so I settled in and got them all finished in just a few days. Finished sewing that is. The top six have been ironed, the 32 at the bottom haven't - and they're much easier to move around than all those stacks of petals, so the ironing may be longer in coming than the sewing.
As with all the seasons, there are parts to like and parts to dislike. Our job is to focus on the parts we like, and try not to grumble about the parts we don't like. Grumbling won't keep them from happening, it'll just make us more conscience of the miserable moments and allow them to steal some of our joy.
*Most of these photos (certainly the good ones - like the sunflowers) are the property of my sweet daughter, Ri.