Brian had a late meeting tonight, so Norah and I took a spur-of-the-moment trip into the city to have dinner with him, since otherwise he wouldn’t get to see her at all today. We were the only people at Ambrosia at barely five o’clock, which was fine with us.

It’s been a beautiful day today, sunny and just warm enough, so when Norah and I got home we took Reba for a walk and then played in the backyard. I did some weeding and Norah ran around with her watering can and a cup, “helping” me and making Maple Tree Soup.

Then we played for a bit on the deck (which we finally got cleaned off for the season–I don’t know why we put it off so long. I can’t wait to drink my coffee out there, now we’re in this fleeting golden period after the cottonwood and the helicopters and before the Japanese beetles). I was pinching off spent daylilly blossoms and putting them in a little pile on the deck bench. Norah discovered them and said “Messy.”

“That’s okay. Things are messy outside sometimes.”

She started to gather the curled-up flowers, dropping them one by one into her little red bowl (”Put it.”). Soon she had a respectable pile, anchored by a few of her rocks at the bottom of the bowl. And of course the next step in her very important work was to empty the bowl, flower by flower. I sat on the deck chair watching her, so serious-faced, intent on her project.