Big, bushy bouquets of lilacs are overtaking the Little White House. We’ve filled vases and pitchers. . .It has been warm enough for the first time to sleep with the windows open, and the scent of lilacs ruffles through the moonlit rooms on cool, fresh breezes, and colors our dreams.
The pea plants, in other news, are flourishing, and I crafted a trellis the other day by screwing hooks into the overhang of our shed’s roof, and stringing twine down in a triangular fashion to a metal rod laid on the ground along my row of peas. It was uncharacteristically handy of me, and I’m proud.
There are mysterious shapes looming on the horizons of the girls of the Little White House. . .