67 this morning with 90 percent humidity. So cool, but so sticky.
I'm enjoying this change in the weather, even with the high humidity. Yesterday it rained until mid-afternoon, light-to-heavy showers that were perfect for the gardens.
We had a lazy day yesterday. The rain seems to invite us to slow down, doesn't it? We had a leisurely breakfast of apple pancakes with real West Virginia maple syrup and our own sausage. Coffee on the porch, then more coffee while I settled into a new-to-us recliner to finish my book. These recliners--there's a pair of them--are well worn but so comfortable. I made them into perfect "old-people" chairs by adding doilies. They remind me so much of some elderly person's home, but I cannot remember who. But the memory has a good feeling about it so I must have liked them. I know I am sadly out of style, but that's okay.
My book was the perfect choice for a rainy day: Rainsongs by Sue Hubbard.
I believe it was Pat at Weaver of Grass who recommended it, and I enjoyed it very much. It's not a fast-moving story, rather one filled with vivid descriptions of a part of Ireland I have visited and loved, with strong, slow character development, much Irish history and lore, especially from County Kerry, and a story line that was at times uncomfortably close to my own heart. A woman lost her only son in an accident; twenty years later she also loses her husband and must go to a cottage he inherited in Ireland to sort out his affairs, and in the process try to sort her life as well. While not a happy story, it is not a sad one either, surprisingly, and a very satisfying read if you are in the mood for something slower and thoughtful. I will be looking for other titles by this author.
While I was reading my son Derek called to say he was on his way over with his daughter and grandson. How odd to say my son's grandson, but there it is, and a lovely little man Ryland is. He loved Granny's snickerdoodles, which I hastened to make when I realized I had no snacks in the house.
They were just in the oven when our company arrived, and came out hot and ready just as the coffee was done. Ryland had several cookies, and even stole one right out of his mother's hand.
He found the little wood workbench I have in the living room, and left it on the couch. I haven't had the heart to put it back where it belongs. A little boy's toy, left in his wake. It touches me somehow.
After they left, I got back to my book and finished it, then did some tidying up and worked on the china cabinet I'm painting. It's almost done, just the last sanding and waxing to do. Dinner was a pieced-together meal of leftover potato soup I'd made the day before, leftover cucumber-tomato-onion salad, and toasted homemade bread and butter. So delicious. Simple and very few dishes, too.
In the evening we watched the first episode of The Grand, a BBC series about a hotel in England. It looks promising. We haven't watched anything in so long I can't remember what the last thing we watched was.
So that was our day. Nothing exciting or dramatic, just good.
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