Summer is in full swing and though for the most part, I am not in Milton to enjoy it, I do get down often enough to swing in the hammock or laze in my zero-gravity lawn chair. Thanks to Lance’s green thumbs the garden is bursting into bloom. Sadly my time there is still sporadic. I am now working through the surprise list of house faults generated by the house inspector (those guys really should wear body armour and travel with a social worker). Yesterday found me making no less than a hundred and five trips down and back up the stairs for random tools I didn’t know I would need, performing fifty-six of the more obscure yoga positions, and eating insulation and roof dust for lunch. I swear. Actually I swore several times but my thumb nails are unscathed and despite the few ripples in the shingles outside the sag in the back roof appears to be resolved. Knock on wood. Ow. I digress; back to the garden:
We have bee balm which the hummingbirds love.
and brown-eyed Susans
and white roses climbing over the stone wall by the road
and pink ones
and this little pink and white rose who just couldn’t make up her mind. (must be a Gemini)
Now why does that rose remind me of ice cream? Why does everything remind me of ice cream? All I can say about that is that it is good that you can’t get the cinnamon bun flavoured Ben and Jerry’s here in Canada or I would have had to pay someone to endure the thousand degree crawl space under my roof. (Is it pity or attention I am craving, you might well ask – well, a little of both).
So today I recommend you go out, get yourself an ice cream and walk around the neighbourhood and admire the blooms. They won’t last long.
© Judy Parsons 2014
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Beautiful blooms! Speaking of ice cream, remember “twirlies”?
Indeed I do remember twirlies. Custard cones we called them when we were trying to be fancy. Do you remember the day Uncle Ock (Oscar) dropped the full tray of twirlies onto the pavement outside the Bowstan restaurant? I always preferred hard ice cream and always wished it came in root beer flavour. Seems to me the only exotic flavour available in Lewisporte was orange-pineapple but only grandmothers ate that. Some gratification was achieved with the root beer float. Gosh girl, you’ve got me going on ice cream now. Remember at Granny Short’s one summer we made it from scratch with tinned milk, tinned peaches and ice chopped off an ice berg? Eeeew, I think I feel a blog coming on…..
Granny’s ice cream was indeed the best I’ve ever had. I have never forgotten it. In fact, I mentioned it last week when we got the ice berg ice for our drinks out Halls Bay.