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.)