Our granddaughter dutifully made up her bed after breakfast this morning.  Her girlfriend of whom I was informed sees no value in so doing, did not, though she managed to, the previous few mornings.  The bathroom they are sharing is littered with the paraphernalia of sixteen-year-old girls, their towels hanging helter-skelter to dry, the vanity counter-top hosting gadgets I never even knew existed.

I quartered a large cantaloupe this morning to avoid the grimaces that met me when I proffered oranges yesterday morning, and the girls made their own pancakes for breakfast while we had dry cereal with milk, and coffee went the rounds.

The house is momentarily absent their presence.  Given some spending money, and dropped off at the large shopping mall with all those name-brand little boutique shops they love to poke around in, they won't call to be picked up until one in the afternoon, and I'll have their lunch ready when they arrive back. 

Their absence gives us the opportunity to do our thing; for him, mow the lawns, for me bake the raspberry-white-chocolate cheesecake I promised our granddaughter we'd have for dessert tonight.  Yesterday it was freshly-baked tiny doughnuts, along with diced pineapple, the day before freshly-made ice cream served with sliced strawberries.

We've a busy day ahead, and moving along with our schedule.  Planning to take a quick ramble in the ravine before we set off to do the weekly food shopping.  The girls' presence is delightful, but with the additional work involved, it will be just as delightful (almost) to drop them off back home on Saturday. 

They are lovely girls, thoughtful and sweet, and to see them in tandem is an additional bit of pleasure.  They don't particularly care to pose for photographs, though I did sneak a few in when they returned from the hairdresser, and then again when they came back from a nearby shopping expedition.

It's another hot-hot day, already humid and sticky, with the temperature set to top 34-degrees Celsius.