Under the lap blanket on this chilly night, reading to the rhythm of gentle snores…. 🤍

In a café yesterday Ian spilled some coffee on the table and wiped it up. A young woman standing nearby said “I’m sorry” and came over to wipe it up some more. “This is what we do in my culture,” she explained. “In my Turkish culture we help older people… but they have to be kind to us!”

Sunday afternoon, a sweet little chippy munching away outside back window.

5 p.m. Patterson Creek.

Saturday, before going shopping. --Do you have the list?" --I can't remember where I put it. --So you're listless.

Yesterday at sundown, at the Ottawa Titans baseball game, six hot-air balloons from the Festival de montgolfières de Gatineau drifted over the stadium. A magical few minutes.

Oh! Sixteen days after Bullroar Monday the bullrush exploded.

Saturday afternoon. Turkey in the backyard, stretching on tippy toes.

Ian’s bullroar tribute sketch. (He and his friends long ago dubbed the second Monday in August “Bullroar Monday.”)

We got 75.8 cm (29.8 inches) of rain yesterday in Ottawa. And the guy next door has his lawn sprinkler on.