Last of the Light

Late afternoon garden check. With Eric off to a rehearsal (actually to a meeting to vote for the next music director for the Beaverton Symphony), I wandered around the yard snipping here, plucking there - and clucking, too: why do we still have this old thing, what is that doing over there, try to ignore that pile of - what is it anyway?! Switch to thinking of making oatmeal cookies for the great-niece visit on Saturday morning.