Wednesday, June 8, 2016

63

... an iris in our neighbourhood ...
A few weeks ago Michael asked me what neighbourhood means, so as we take short walks at night after supper, we look around our "neighbourhood" to see what is going on there that is new.

We have been known to gather beautiful rocks and stones along the way.

Yesterday it was about 81 degrees Fahrenheit as we began our walk but Alice insisted on wearing a white fleece hoodie.  I couldn't dissuade her, and since it was a contest between a 2 1/2 year old who knows her own mind and a 70 year old grandmother who didn't really care one way or the other, she got to wear the jacket.

We walked by the new infill, noting that the basement forms have been filled with cement and are coming off.  We hear a loud discussion between the contractor and two workmen on the sidewalk in front of that infill and we listened in for a minute and then continued down to 24th Avenue where our community is getting a new sidewalk, and perhaps even a new lane for traffic just at the Crowchild intersection.

Yes to our community, always under construction.

Alice picked up rocks along the way home, putting them in the kangaroo pocket of her coat.

"So that is the reason she had to put that fleecy on before we left," I idly thought.  "She knew ahead that she needed pockets."

I dropped the kids off at their home and continued working around my yard, filling up my black and blue recycling containers for the pick up in the morning.

Richard came outside and  yelled over his porch to me, "Sixty-three,"

"Sixty-three?"

"Yes," he continued, "I just emptied 63 rocks out of her pocket from her walk with you."

I waited until she had gone to bed before going over there to get the rocks and return them to the alley.

Yes to recycling rocks ... from one alley to the next.

Arta

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