Dried Flowers....

...and seed heads. This is a part of a huge arrangement I've been collecting  from various flower arrangements as well as from the garden for years. Full arrangement in extras. It is the one thing I can put in a very dark corner of our television room that won't die. I hang the roses upside down in a sunny window and dry some of the other things in a collection of jars and bottles on the same windowsill. Other things just dry in place in the big pot. 

The pot was hand built by a 'prefectural treasure' in Japan. I took a risk and shipped it home and it arrived in perfect shape. It's one of my favorite possessions. And I like the ever evolving and changing arrangement as well.

We took Spike to the field with his red ball this morning.   Meanwhile I had been waylaid by a very elderly Chinese woman who invited me to sit next to her by patting the bench in the children's playground where she was sitting. I think she wanted to practice her English so we pointed at various things while she named them in English and she named them for me in Mandarin (at least I think it was Mandarin). I was torn between feeling sorry for her out all by herself and admiration for her tackling her situation with gusto. I finally pointed up the hill over which John and Spike had disappeared and said I had to go. She  said, 'Go home' and then put out her hand and introduced herself.

When I arrived at the field the grass around the edges  was taller than Spike and he had waded in and disappeared into the resulting nest to chew on his ball and wait for me to show up. He really is a springer because when he came out of his nest he bounced  sprang down the hill. 

The rest of the day has been spent on small tasks in the garden and finishing the neck ribbing of the four year sweater. Now all I have to do is divvy up the remaining blue wool evenly between the two sleeves. I have made it into two little balls, one for each sleeve. All this while scrupulously avoiding the news. I have commented to several people that I think the fixation on tariffs belies a very unsettled and uncomprehending brain.

The little bluebird is still tapping at the bedroom windows. The mealworms don't seem to interest her.