There was nothing on our calendar this mid-July Sunday. A very hectic few weeks had just expired and this was our first day to regroup. I was up at dawn to tend to Tabby, my bird friends, and to water and weed the gardens before the summer sun was about to ignite the day. The sky had a pale wash of Alizarin Crimson and the air was warm, dry and still. The peaceful silence of this Eden generated a deep feeling of appreciation for the morning.
Last evening, during my walk through the local fields, I found a patch of ripe blackberry bushes and picked a quart of sweet plump berries. When Susan awoke we enjoyed them generously spread over our breakfast cereal. The coffee also tasted better than usual—even though it was the same Chock-Full-Of-Nuts that made yesterday's brew.
After breakfast we started the day with a visit to a local flea market and enjoyed finding a few baby items for our precious new grandson. Unlike other trips to this market, I found myself lingering a little longer at tables and allowing memories from my childhood emerge from the various items on display—tools that my father owned, toys and baseball cards from the mid 80s when our son was a little one. For a change, it was Susan who was eager to move on while I played catch-up.
We returned home for some housecleaning and yard maintenance. I did an afternoon run to the local veggie market and Shoprite. Prior to leaving, I Googled "blackberry dessert recipes" and set my sights on Very Berry Cheesecake and I printed the ingredient list to take with me to the store.
While Susan continued with housecleaning, I spent the afternoon baking that delicious berry dessert and cutting and preparing the fresh veggies for the grill—eggplant, zucchini, peppers, broccoli and portobello mushrooms, which I marinated in a balsamic vinaigrette with a few extra cloves of garlic. I then shucked a few ears of Jersey corn, the first of the season, and placed them on the high rack of the grill.
Later in the afternoon we ate outside on the patio and enjoyed watching hummingbirds visit the flaming orange-red gladiolus that surrounded us. Tabby slept in the shade of the Bradford pear tree as the catbirds and blue jays informed us of his whereabouts.
We talked about how we should have been at the shore or some tourist town along the Delaware River, but decided that this Sunday home was the clearly the best place to be.
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