NOT-SO-SECRET ADMIRER

I return home to find a huge flower bouquet waiting for me, no card attached. Who is it from — and why did he send it?

It’s Garry, the big sweetie pie!

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My husband brings me flowers. Not every day, not even every week. But regularly. I have to assume that anytime there is a bouquet awaiting me, it’s from Garry. I have never been wrong.

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Exactly what the bouquet will contain varies from week to week depending on what they happen to have in the floral section of Hannaford and Garry’s mood.

Last week, it was yellow roses. Before that, chrysanthemums.

The roses are fading … and we are into the “mortgage payment.” No new flowers until next week, I fear.

I look forward to them. The anticipation makes it all the sweeter. My husband is a keeper!

NOVEMBER BY THE RIVER

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Sunday was a glorious day. Cool enough to be comfortable in nothing more than a sweatshirt. Bright, sunny, clear.

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Our friend was visiting — too briefly — from Arizona. They have desert, mountains, forest … but we have water. The river, the dams, the canal.

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The leaves are almost completely gone from the trees … except for a few bright yellow maple trees by the Mumford in town.

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I believe this is the first time I’ve taken pictures along the canal in November. Sharp contrast, cooler colors. Interesting. Every season has a unique quality to capture. Even this short end-of-autumn time between the leaves and real winter.

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ODDBALL PHOTOS – AT HOME

CEE’S ODD BALL PHOTO CHALLENGE: 2015 WEEK #45

We’ve had company for the past couple of days. It including taking a time out from blogging.

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Spending some much-needed, real up close and personal time with someone from the good old days about which we talk.

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There aren’t many people left who were there, in those days. Who remember …

Garry with dogs and me at home. Photo by Ben Taylor
Garry with dogs and me at home. Photo by Ben Taylor