"Dirty hands, iced tea, garden fragrances thick in the air and a blanket of color before me, who could ask for more?"

We have had no rain, only overcast skies. Yesterday there was a breeze and less humidity. It made the deck the spot to be, and I sat outside and read.

We had a toaster sitting on the counter when I was a kid. It worked fine with Wonder Bread but anything else usually got stuck. We'd take a butter knife and reach down in to try to dislodge the English muffin or whatever else it was that wouldn't pop. It was a simple procedure of sliding the knife down the side of the bread, impaling the bread on the knife and yanking the bread upward. I have no idea why we weren't electrocuted. We'd climb trees and swing from branches. It was the best fun when the branch broke and sent us tumbling to the ground. We'd laugh, get up and swing again on another branch. I remember there was farm close to us. It was a mere walk from the house through the fields, up the hill passed the blueberry bushes and the water tower, across the street and down a few streets more. Horses were usually in the field near the street. We'd, my brother and I, grab a handful of grass to try to entice the horses closer to the fence. Our dream was to climb the fence and jump aboard those horses. We tried everything, even chasing them through the field. We never did catch those horses. That was probably a good thing as we had never ridden a horse, with, let alone without, a saddle.

The summer swamp was a great place to spend the afternoon. Darning needles flitted and swirled across the water. They would fly then stop and hover. I remember they were graceful and beautiful. Their wings glittered in the sunlight. We never tried to catch them. I'm not sure why, but I'm thinking they were just too fast. My little sister believed that darning needles would stitch her lips together. We never told her otherwise.