For Bess, who understands that the world cannot possibly create enough peonies to make one woman fully happy (but that we should continue to try anyway)...
Just as the deep fuchsia peonies have started to drop their petals, the pink ones are starting to open up. I keep going outside and burying my face in these flowers to catch just one more whiff of their heavenly fragrance. Why must peonies bloom so briefly?
Enough distraction. Back to work!
The writing continues. I appreciate all your words of wisdom and advice. My so-called "rational mind" knows that everything is right where it's supposed to be. But the irrational mind, ah, that's a different story.
In celebration of having conquered the chapters on sheep and angora goats, and having received four truly stunning finished garments from two Mystery Designers (oh how I wish I could post pictures here), I spent the afternoon dreaming of buying an apartment in Paris.
And tonight, if I manage to conquer Mount Cashmere Goatius, I celebrate with a fish burger from the Country View Drive In—a summertime tradition up in these parts. Life doesn't get much better than this, I say.
p.s.-More delphiniums for Mary