It's a Beautiful Day

We had a pretty quiet weekend around here, so I don't have much to report. The highlight was traveling down to Greenwich on Saturday, where Sally and Mike had a little gathering for Sally's birthday. We had a great time sitting in their back garden, sipping wine and watching the swallows swoop and dive in the evening sky.

The weather has been fabulous. In fact, it reminded me of my favorite record album cover:

I first saw this record as a kid, digging around in my dad and stepmother's record cabinet. I hadn't listened to it in years -- a 1969 disc of grooviness that practically produces a contact high. Back then I loved the most famous track, "White Bird," but the others didn't much impress me. This weekend I found the music on iTunes, though, and it was much better than I remembered, so I bought most of the songs. That set me off on a psychedelic rock listening spree: Moby Grape, Strawberry Alarm Clock and a band with the unlikely name of Ultimate Spinach. Apparently naming your band after produce was a popular fad in the '60s.

We did some balcony gardening on Saturday. We bought a new geranium to replace the one I killed (and subsequently failed to root), as well as purple salvia, thyme, a bigger pot for our lavender, and some stakes for our tomatoes. We have quite a garden going out there -- though sadly not one as extensive as Sally's. (I don't think we have any swallows, either.) On a related note, our Amsterdam tulip never did bloom. It began to die back, so I planted the bulb in the corner of one of our large potted shrubs. Maybe it will return next spring -- and maybe it won't.

(Photo: The Bow Road tube stop, on Friday.)