Edelweiss of Simmer

The nice ladies from church know the Sparrowhawk, because he goes to the office weekly to help them count their contributions. So the one who runs the office called us while we were driving home from the funeral to ask if we'd like them to ask for prayers for my brother during the praying for people time. I was touched and said that would be nice. Unfortunately it aggravated me greatly when it actually happened tonight, because the lector horribly mangled my brother's name and mine, while squinting at his notes as if he'd never seen such a thing. Dear God, don't people even know how to read any more? I shouldn't be surprised, because I've gone from one name that people seem to find hard to pronounce to another one that's even worse--and yet, if they'd just read the words phonetically according to the rules for pronouncing English, there would be no problem. I tried to stop gnashing my teeth as the service proceeded. Getting irrationally angry over nothing is a sign of grieving, as I know from past experience.

I got up and dashed down to the farmers market on my own this morning. It was too early for the Sparrowhawk. I wanted to be home in good time because Dr. Nurse and Dr. Music planned to come over with Bird Baby and bring us pastries, if we would provide the coffee. I hastily filled my bag with sweet corn, green beans, broccolini, a darling mini-cabbage, onions, beets, pasties, some basil, a small box of early peaches just to see if they'd ever ripen, and a big box of blueberries to share with Bird Baby and her family. I don't think her parents ever get any blueberries, because she hoovers them up like a little bear cub.

We had a fun and lively visit, moving from the dining room to the back yard, where Bird Baby had all kinds of fun watering plants with my watering can, and Dr. Nurse found a baby toad and an interesting kind of insect that we haven't identified yet (but don't worry--definitely not a spotten lantern fly). The Sparrowhawk cooked some bacon to share, as well, and we gave them the blueberries and some sweet corn to take home. I spent my remaining spare time typing up all of my mother's poems that I found in a red file among her papers. There are probably more, but it's a start. I shared them with the female relatives. Then we went to the aforesaid annoying church service. Dinner was pasties, tomatoes, sweet corn, and green beans. Everything was delicious because it was so simple and fresh. After dinner, I made cookies for the potluck tomorrow. It had to be done tonight, because tomorrow the oven will be occupied by a brisket, also for the potluck. Am I a potluck over-achiever? Quite possibly. I led a young friend to believe there would be cookies, so I don't want to disappoint. And now we're watching the downtown fireworks on the Sparrowhawk's laptop. How clever!