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Posts Tagged ‘seasons’

yellow daisies

As Kathleen Kelly famously said, daisies are the friendliest flower. And Lorelai Gilmore – who believes in going big – once expressed a desire for a thousand yellow daisies.

white daisies garden

I’m not sure if my friend Bob’s garden has a thousand yellow daisies, but it is bursting with gorgeous flowers, and spending a little time there this week was pure heaven.

yellow daisies garden

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red hibiscus

This one was easy: I’ll always choose red. And I’m snapping so many photos of flowers (of every color) these days.

roses sage

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crimson snapdragons table flowers

There are two kinds of dragons in my life this summer: the snapdragons from Brattle Square Florist, which are glorious in every color (though these crimson ones are my favorite). And Toothless, who is a recent and happy-making addition to a friend’s bike helmet.

toothless dragon peonies bike helmet

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kitchen red kettle stove

We moved last weekend, as I may have mentioned. So Friday’s August Break prompt – “where I live” – was perfect.

oxford mystery bookshelf books

It’s not really home until (some of) the books are shelved. That top shelf is Oxford and Dorothy Sayers (there is some overlap, in the form of Gaudy Night). The second shelf is more mysteries, including Mary Russell and a hefty dose of Agatha Christie.

morning light treetops

I already love the morning light out these windows. These maple trees are going to be a riot of color in the fall.

back porch geraniums

The hubs and I are both beyond thrilled to have a back porch again. We’ve been eating dinner out here every chance we get and it is glorious.

In case you missed it: I’m participating in Susannah Conway’s August Break this month.

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image.jpegI’m already in love with the roses this summer.

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But I found even more of them, in so many gorgeous colors, to admire yesterday.

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black eyed susans back bay

“Black-eyed Susans mean it’s late July,” a friend said recently. I am marking time by flowers these days, and these cheery golden faces definitely signal the later side of summer.

I’m seeing black-eyed Susans everywhere this year, but I snapped this particular bed on a long walk in the Back Bay neighborhood. (Apparently I also fell in love with them last year.)

In case you missed it: I’m participating in Susannah Conway’s August Break this month.

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geraniums front porch

The summer breeze is blowing through my kitchen: one window on the north wall, one on the east. Both are cracked slightly to let the evening air move through, and the blinds are pulled halfway down to provide some relief from the heat. It’s almost working.

I’m sitting at the blond wood kitchen table that dates from my college years, with a glass of iced tea and a vase of wilting sunflowers at my elbow. If I look up, I can see the gallery wall above the table, hung with an assortment of my favorite pieces of art: a vivid watercolor of Boston’s North End, three red maple leaves pressed under glass, a textured map collage made by a friend. The kitchen curtains, brightly patterned cloth napkins bought at Pier 1 and artfully arranged by means of hook and rod, shift slightly in the breeze.

I’m trying to memorize this view. It won’t be mine for much longer.

tulips table kitchen

We are moving again soon, for the second time in a year: to a third-floor apartment in a different Boston suburb than the one we’ve lived in for seven years now. This move, unlike the one we undertook last summer, is our choice, triggered by months of frustration with our current living arrangement. It’s also the result of my husband’s careful combing of real estate listings, several weekends spent driving around to apartment showings, and the help of a realtor named Dante.

Both of us are looking forward to the new place: my commute will be a little shorter and easier, the neighborhood seems beautiful and interesting, and the apartment itself has spacious rooms and a covered back porch. But, as we pack our lives into cardboard boxes (again) and recruit our friends to help us fill a moving truck, I’m starting to realize what I’ll miss about this place.

I’m back at Art House America today (where I write periodically), sharing a bit about our upcoming move and the things I’ve loved – to my own surprise – about the apartment we’ve lived in this year. Please join me over there to read the rest of my essay.

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