With the table finished, glossy sheen marred only by debris borne on a summer breeze, I felt it a good idea to sit out here to work a little on this digital diary. My dog Beau followed me outside, and he has perturbed more than a few neighbors by barking as they passed by our patio. This morning, I swept the concrete slab. It really needs to be sealed and painted, but as my daughter pointed out, ti wouldn't have the character of whether and rust stains, paint drops, and a mysterious mark related to drippings of garbage that th upstairs neighbor left on his balcony.
Don't ask. I haven't.
The miniature botanical garden I have in assorted terra cotta and ceramic pots sways charmingly in the June air. Unfortunately, so does the artificial plant-like structure in the corner. I want it to leave. Ah, punny. In its place, I'd like a chiminea where I could put a couple or three candles to burn in the evening. There just a few other odds and ends that I'd like to toss in the rubbish: two rusty metal bolts that John brought home from a job, two rusty half-spent propane cylinders for a camp stove, and the rusted base of a hurricane lantern. There may be a theme in that last list.
A couple of well placed citronella candles, and this would make a nice little spot for an evening dinner. If only I invited people to visit, it would be pleasant for entertaining too.