In the Pink

This is one of my favourite seasons. Partly because when the great heat subsides and the winds pick up, bringing night time showers, I can go out in the garden and enjoy the climate I always believe I live in. These Queen Elizabeth roses, planted with the house being built in 1964 and replanted to the back when I moved in 12 years ago, are the company I always choose. They remind me of the same roses I knew growing up, and the ones I stood infront of at the farmhouse for my own grad photos with D.

This is a drought tolerant gift of a plant from my naturalist interpreter sister. They laid down in the rain, but decided to keep their chins up in the warm days when I was working. They greet me with delicate strength as I prepare for my night shifts. The robins also flew the coop while I was at the hospital.

Rose of Sharon. We call it Rose of Karen because it was a housewarming present from that friend. I am always surprised that it blooms this early. Why is that?

And our lovely camp at Cultus Lake has begun. My daughter has done training for counsellor, but won't be going up this week. Next week we both go. Expect pictures of silliness.

I am knitting the prayer shawl these night shifts. The cozy pattern is intersting enough to keep me away, but easy enough to read from the stitches.

My blue prayer shawl went with my dear friend to her angioplasty and she assured me it was a comfort. This may be better than baby blankets for spreading hope and comfort.