Perfection

How often do we get to experience perfection? And yet that's exactly what this is. Peony buds are the epitome of hope, and when they open up--absolute perfection in sight and scent. Sometimes I think I should dig up my whole garden and just plant peonies.

June is a great month in the garden. My rose bushes are blooming, too. And there's the catmint, the false indigo, and a few delphinium buds ready to burst. We have wrens nesting in the birdhouses and are having daily sightings of two white squirrels.

With all the work outside, I must confess that my knitting is suffering some. The slowdown wasn't all due to the garden. Last week it became obvious that I was going to run out of yarn before I was able to finish my final sleeve on my Fitzroy cardigan, so I got on the Net and the good people at Webs found one more skein of the yarn--in my dye lot. How great is that? Now I'm back in business. My vacation knitting fizzled too when I finally decided that I needed sharper dpns than I had to work on a lace shawl that I wanted to start. The hiatus wasn't too painful, and I'm hoping to finish up the "Fitz" just in time to start a swatch with some yarn that's in a postal truck somewhere between here and the East coast.