Dear Summer, Where did you go?

 And now it's over, at least on the calendar.  We are in that perfectly balanced  time of the year when the day is 12 hours and the night is 12 hours, the crispness of fall will morph into the winds of winter and then it will all begin again with flowers poking through all of Al's mulch and birds looking for the perfect real estate to build their homes.  

This is what has been happening around here - 

Al got too skinny (he's not the man I married 36 years ago, that guy was really cuddly, but he does want you to see his newly remodeled work pants.  This time I sewed the patches on before he wears through.  Do you love the cell phone pocket on the inside-out shirt?  I just do what I'm told.

The wasps love Sequim, too, even under the RV slide. 

This might need explanation.  He trimmed the Mugo pines but wants the needles for mulch, so patiently pulled them off the branches.  It took many hours over many days.  He called it his needlework.

This required a new Cuisinart with a powerful grating ability. 

 Cake is in the freezer but those zucchini just keep on coming.

My favorite phase of hydrangea, when the pink or blue wander into the green family

                                             Lots and lots of birds on a wire, making their own kind of music.

The painting project has begun.  All by himself, all by hand. 

 Those new pants now have paint stories to tell.  

Between other projects I have been knitting scarves for soldiers stationed far from home. It's been fun to see what each one is going to become and wondering who it will keep warm.  

God bless America!