This week the baseball season draws to a close. It's bittersweet, really. This marks the 2/3 point of summer, which is sad. We'll be free of a schedule, yet we won't regularly see people we like. I won't have to keep up with laundry so people have uniforms, but I won't have regular access to the slushies for sale down at the ballpark. (I'm telling you, those Sundrop slushies are among life's better treats.)
The prairie is in full bloom, but we haven't seen a single butterfly this summer. Hummingbirds? Check. Bees? Check. Grasshoppers? Check. But not a single butterfly. We're concerned.
I'm deadheading daisies, picking berries and peas, and watching the green take on a faint tinge of gold. This sudden cold front worries me--I know it will pass over, but I can't help that panicky feeling that we wasted the best weather sticking close to home in order to play baseball and missed our chance to canoe and swim in Lake Michigan ...
There's still a lot of activity in our front yard--a cement truck yesterday! But that shed isn't going up as fast as some people here would like.