Still life with peonies
Summer Thursdays are like birthdays. I come home to presents in the form of whatever goodness from the earth our CSA has delivered to our doorstep.
Last Thursday was our first delivery and amongst the herbs and the salad greens and the radishes and the freshest asparagus was this bundle of peonies. These are the things that make me happy, for the house smelled like summer and therefore, in my head, I inaugurated the beginning of summer. (Never mind the cool temps and rain we've had since then; never mind the calendar's protests that I must wait four weeks. Calendar, thy doth protesteth too much.)
Floating on the scent of peonies we've behaved all week in the spirit of summer. When the girls splashed in their wading pool on Saturday (when it was still hot), I was convinced to jump in, clothes and all. Then I swam back and forth, on my elbows, because we were seals. And in the summer when your daughters want to swim like seals the scent of peonies command that you swim. We may have barked, too.
It's Thursday Eve and summer is a state of mind. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. Anticipation is a summery sensation, don't you think?