The toad is back this week, looking fit. There will be a second full moon for the month of August, on the 31st, a so-called Blue Moon. These events make me feel lucky, for no apparent reason.
I picked a peck of tomatoes, or maybe it was two, at Barb-and-Harry-in-Dell's garden one morning this week. A gentle rain had fallen the night before, and the sun was warm, the air sweet, the bees friendly. The curly sheep baa-baaed far across the field, not too close to be irritating. Barb was thumping away at her loom in the shed.
I stood up too quickly, and felt a dizzy rush. I reached out to steady myself and found a sturdy bar to hold. It was a walker. Harry has staked his tomatoes on a collection of discarded ones, giving his garden the appearance of a crowd of walker-users having disappeared and returned as tomato plants. For the record, I believe this is the first time I've relied on a walker to keep myself standing up.