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Good Fences #117

Good Fences #117

I’m sticking close to home this week. In fact, this is the “Fennel and Milkweed Jungle” in my backyard, viewed from a lawn chair. We’re ready for Black Swallowtail and Monarch butterflies and caterpillars! I’m sure the birds are looking forward to them, too – but for other reasons.

Hope you have a great weekend! It’s Father’s Day weekend here in the U.S., thankful for all the dads. Where would we be without them? 

Thankful Thursday

Mmmmm–is for Monday

We spent a good part of the weekend at our daughter’s house. They wanted to take hubby out for dinner to celebrate a belated Father’s Day, and this is where they took us. 

We need one of these in our area! Hubby said his Cod and Shrimp Combo might be the best he’s ever had.

I ordered Pecan Chicken Tender Salad. It was a tasty mix of salad greens, bleu cheese, dried cranberries, mandarin oranges, and the yummiest chicken, served with balsamic vinaigrette (though one could opt for other dressings). 

 

We’re definitely going to have to come up with a reason to visit again very soon. 

 

 

 

Happy Father’s Day, CW

I spent a good part of the day yesterday going through my photo dvds, looking for a particular picture of my father-in-law…to no avail. Then I resorted to the boxes of photos, and still came up empty-handed. 

We’ve called him CW (his initials) or Pappy for years. He’s the meekest, gentlest, quietest man I know. When the cameras come out, he quietly slips from the room. 

I made him a Father’s Day card a couple years ago using this picture, and I couldn’t even find the picture of that! So, I present to you, the best father-in-law EVER. 

He turned 89 this spring, but I know he’s still a kid at heart.

 

 

 

 

 

My Dad, for Father’s Day

This picture of my dad was taken by a neighbor, and given to me after I’d married and moved away. She said this picture depicted who she knew him to be–coming from the garden with bounty to share with family, neighbors, neighbors and friends of family, coworkers. And there was always enough left to put away to see us through winter.  He was a gardener by day and a coal miner by night. He left us just before Father’s Day in 1993. When I hear thunder, I wonder if my dad is driving the potato wagon through Heaven, and some rolled off. That’s what he told me thunder was. Happy Father’s Day, Dad.