When the Poppies Bloom

We were married 23 years ago today. When we drove down the Oregon Coast to San Francisco and Mendocino, the California poppies were blooming on the roadside. It was charming and I'll never forget it, even though I wasn't taking many pictures back then.
We went out for supper last night and came home to a childless house. It's a bit spooky. Emily is a director at May Retreat, a youth event at our camp, and Scott is on the Sunshine Coast with his girlfriend's family for the long weekend.
We are going to take it quietly. The usual cabin, camping, BBQ May Long Weekend events are a bit much for us. We're getting up gradually earlier (0500 for me and 0400 for D) to get our clocks moved over to African time. The packing is almost finished, the lists checked and the guidebooks discussed over glasses of South African Pinotage wine. It's pretty exciting.
Today I hope to finish the booties for the baby layette that I will enter into the Fair Share class. Then maybe work on the Taize shawl I'm bringing on the long flight. Bamboo circular needles are my flying choice. It looks like KLM is not opposed to knitting, but I don't want to take any chances.
The warm weather has receded and I had to wear a polar fleece sweater for our walk today. It was really cold on the deck this morning, but I was determined to read the Globe and Mail outside (with shawl and afghan).
Hope you all have a great weekend, catch up on podcasts and knitting and visiting with friends and family.