Summery summary

Remember how cold and wet it was in June?

And how much one longed for a bit of warmth to bask in?

Well ha ha ha.

We got it.

That's 114º F.

In the shade.

Not so much basking weather,

as

lurking behind closed shutters

hanging wet towels at windows

freezing towels as compresses

and rediscovering the joys of Uno weather.

Because if you did venture out

it was so blindingly bright

and pulsatingly hot

that even being sensible in the shade

wasn't an option.

There was a lovely pool,

but only one sun umbrella.

Don't be deceived by that cloud.

It never even attempted to shield us from the sun.

The box moth was thriving though.

There were hideous clouds of them

being enjoyed misguidedly by the tourists

in lavender fields.

But these murals were unexpectedly lovely.

And being awake early one morning

I heard a roaring sound and to my astonishment

saw this -

Since returning to a land of wholly acceptable variants 

on normal summer temperatures

I have been grateful for the ability to think, move around freely and sleep.

The grandchildren had meanwhile surely grown 

more than a week's absence could have made possible.

One of them having clocked up his first year

in the blink of an eye.

Spring board

As well as being seduced by Instagram,

I have been brought to a grinding halt by my old computer.

Now I have something new and shiny 

but I don’t know if it will let me load photos

or what anything will look like.

So here goes:

I know that magnolias are rather old hat now and are mostly

a rather thickly padded brown carpet for most of us

but I wanted a record for posterity anyway.

Moving swiftly on, we have apple blossom,

and lambs.

The garlic persists but with added flowers

Wood anemones are holding their own,

but have been joined tentatively by bluebells.

The Open garden season is upon us

and tulip mania is in full swing.

Today has been so warm that the belted Galloway

have sought shade under the hawthorns.

Well nothing about this short post went well.

Clearly an iPad is not suited to this sort of endeavour

and despite the tranquil scenes you see above

I have been tearing my hair out and gnashing my teeth

on the other side of the screen.

I cannot scroll.

I cannot stop the typeface reverting to Times Roman.

I cannot break a line without it inserting an initial cap.

I cannot enlarge the photos.

I cannot prevent the whole page from flicking back up to the top

While I type.

And there’s that blasted cap.

I must regroup.

It will be Autumn leaves before we know it 

and the whole summer will have gone unblogged.

Bear with.

Places to find some peace and (relative) quiet

Turtle spotting in Central Park.

A trip on the tramway (actually a cable car) 

over the East River to Roosevelt Island.

Very little to do there

but a stroll to the Four Freedoms Park

was pleasant enough and completely deserted.

The outright winner for tranquility was the Met Cloisters.

Monarch butterflies in the Conservatory Garden.

Purl Soho. A pilgrimage to see the knitting shop of online fame.

It was certainly quiet in there. Somnolent even.

I had to ask someone to help me 

because nothing is labelled for brand, composition or price.

After a short discussion and vague hand waving at the shelves,

 the young woman turned away, as I thought, 

to show me a pattern but to my consternation

fell into another assistant's arms for a prolonged embrace, 

much back stroking and murmurs of consolation.

I stood behind her wondering what I had done to trigger this collapse.

Eventually she straightened and wandered over to the rack. 

I came away empty-handed.