Five on a Rainy Friday: Roses and Rhubarb

Mid-June. Outside my window the raindrops fall. I'm wearing jeans, a t-shirt, a light sweater, and socks. The socks are a nod to the weather, normally I go barefoot from May to September. I can hear the faint chirp of birds outside, along with the tumble of the dryer inside. 

The above photo is of Boscobel, on a non-rainy day. She's giving me great delight.

I stepped out into the garden for a few minutes for some mint, and went back for my camera. Gertrude Jekyll, and Secret, below, are blooming in the rain. 

My reading is not very exciting. I don't have the mental energy just now for anything challenging or very exciting. I'm re-reading Coming Home by Rosamunde Pilcher, and found her words about the beginning of the Second World War applicable just now -

"Afterwards, in retrospect, Judith was always to remember the war as being a lot like a long journey in an aeroplane...hours of boredom interspersed with flashes of pure terror."

I don't know about the terror aspect, but I fear this Covid-19 will be a long journey that is often boring and uncomfortable. And I say this from an Island deemed free of the virus. Restrictions still apply. 

Our border with our friends to the south, where many of my readers live, is closed. We are becoming quite appalled by the way a few people think that the border doesn't really exist. We've heard about boaters coming up to explore our waters as they always do during the summer. We welcome them, but I'd just like to tell everyone to stay away for now. Washington State has many, many more cases than BC - with more new ones every day. 

It's almost lunchtime here. I'm going to have some cucumbers, red peppers, and cottage cheese with pickled onions, sunflower seeds, and a drizzle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Followed by a square of dark chocolate for dessert. And probably another mug of steaming tea since it's a chilly day.

Being out in my garden fills me with deep content. We're enjoying fresh strawberries, not many, but enough, and last night I picked the first small bowlful of red raspberries, the perfect mix of tart and sweet. We enjoyed them with our breakfast this morning. The feverfew lightens up the dark corners of the garden. I let it grow to fill in spots, and it's easy enough to yank out where it's not wanted. The peonies, as you can spot, are bedraggled in the rain and dropping their petals like mad. 

 

In the kitchen I've been making rhubarb syrup for a thirst-quenching drink should the weather decide to warm up. The big jar is in the fridge, but the smaller ones are sealed and headed for the basement storage shelves. 

When we were in Europe last summer it was hot, hot, hot. I normally drink only water, but the cold "lemonades" they served were wonderful - not too sweet as we often make drinks in North America, but refreshing and tart. I'm attempting to make my own concentrates this year, with seasonal fruits. I think blackberries and raspberries will be delicious. 

There are lots of recipes on the internet if you do a search. I adapted a Rhubarb Syrup one to be heavier on the rhubarb and lighter on the sugar. 

There is a glimmer of light across the sky just now, behind the clouds. A good reminder that Light is always present, even on the darkest days. 

Weekend plans include some gardening, some housecleaning, a bit of baking, and getting together with friends on Sunday. How about you? Any plans? Are restrictions easing in your area? Happy Weekend, my friends.