Our landlord in a straw hat walking the green hose around the yard.
And me indoors, laying seeded croissants out on parchment paper ready to bake before it gets too hot.
Putting wild rice to soak in the blue glazed French bowl.
Chopping herbs.
Cutting a crenshaw melon.
Washing arugula and chives.
In the spirit of adventure, buying a bottle of Lillett to drink on ice.
Authentic Pimientos de Padron, each sixth one hot.
Reading mysteries set in Cyprus, Scotland, Versailles, the Bosporus.
Getting up late to take the train to the city to see French art.
image: me writing in hammock at the Writing Mills, Mallorca, by Kate Whitehead
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