Another day in the neighborhood

Yesterday was my birthday.  I am now officially 59 years old.  A neighbor drove me to the seniors center for the monthly catered lunch, and a friend drove me home.  I don't have a car, and I really don't think I can drive safely.  Maybe after I get eyeglasses next month, I'll at least be able to read the street signs.

Lillian down the street paid me $20 toward the water bill.  She has about 100 potted plants in my driveway because county Code Enforcement officers warned her that she had too many in her own driveway.  Lillian sells potted plants.  It's the only way she can make ends meet because she's disabled.

It's chilly morning in June, but the day promises to be a scorcher.  The weather is like that in the mountains.

My garden is beginning to sprout little shoots of corn and beans, and the tomatoes that I started in the window are close to 6 inches high.

The blackberry vine is turning pretty white blooms into green berries that will take a few weeks to turn dark purple.  I'll be making jam pretty soon.

Life is good.

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