June

Hello Friend,

What a lovely day! Simply perfect for the first of June.

For two days now, I’ve been singing that old Rodgers and Hammerstein tune June is Bustin’ Out All Over, from the musical, Carousel. I’ll give you the music before you go.

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It is the month of June
The month of leaves and roses,
When pleasant sights salute the eyes,
And pleasant scents the noses.
Nathaniel Parker Willis

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Come on into the backyard. The Cowboy has finished repairing and painting all the outdoor furniture and we have our choice of cozy nooks for tea time. Shall we sit here under the apple tree where it’s not too hot and not too cold?

Feast your eyes on those apple blossoms, if you will. So delicate and gentle, like forgiveness, somehow.

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An apple tree in full blossom is like a message, sent fresh from heaven to earth, of purity and beauty.
Henry Ward Beecher

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And look! Over there in the corner, the lilacs are about to burst open.

Lilac time brings back memories of our life on ten acres in the middle of the prairies, raising three little girls. Always about this time of year, just before the school bus arrived, the girls and I would run out to the grand lilac bush on the lawn and trim a few limbs. We’d wrap the stems with wet paper towel, and the girls would baby those lilac bouquets all the way to school, over bumpity highways and gravel roads, finally presenting them to their teachers with pride and pleasure.

We never wondered if the teachers would like them or not. Because we loved them, I just assumed they’d appreciate having their classrooms filled with the fragrance of spring.

But now that I know there are some people who can’t stand the smell of them – The Cowboy being one of those people – I wonder if they politely waited for the end of the day, when they could put those smelly posies outside. My apologies to any teacher who found it a trial.

Can I pour your tea? Please help yourself to cream and sugar.

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These blueberry muffins are fresh from the oven. Blueberries are not quite in season where I live, but the ones at the grocery store looked so delicious that we brought home a whole quart.

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I remember picking blueberries with Grandma in northern Manitoba when I was a girl. I can’t say I enjoyed slogging through thick scratchy bush to get to the choicest berries, but later, in the evenings, after we had spent what seemed like hours picking through them, stemming them, and rinsing them, we would have blueberries with real cream, and sugar sprinkled over top. It was the most wonderful dessert ever. My mouth is watering now as I remember. To this day, blueberries are my favourite fruit.

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We do not remember days, we remember moments.
Cesare Pavese

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I have an urge to get out my well-worn Anne books for the summer. Of course, Anne of Green Gables is a favourite, but after that one I love Rilla of Ingleside, the eighth and last book in the series. The story is about Anne’s youngest child, Rilla (named for Marilla), and takes place during WWI. Not only is the book an entertaining read, it’s also educational, in its way. After all, L.M. Montgomery lived through The Great War, and felt it all deeply.

A friend recently reminded me that it’s always good to have three books on the go: one to entertain, one to educate, and one to edify. I think Rilla of Ingleside does all three.

This quote is from Book Three in the series:

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‘I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June,’ said Anne, as she came through the spice and bloom of the twilit orchard to the front door steps, where Marilla and Mrs. Rachel were sitting, talking over Mrs. Samson Coates’ funeral, which they had attended that day. Dora sat between them, diligently studying her lessons; but Davy was sitting tailor-fashion on the grass, looking as gloomy and depressed as his single dimple would let him.
‘You’d get tired of it,’ said Marilla, with a sigh.
‘I daresay; but just now I feel that it would take me a long time to get tired of it, if it were all as charming as today. Everything loves June.’
L.M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island, originally published 1915.

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