Some of the garden furniture gets stored in one of our two backyard garden sheds, and some of it gets shoved to the back of the 4'-5" high 'patio' under the deck. It's a patio only in the sense that Jackie and Jillie like to roust about there on occasion, and find shelter from rain and snow if it's pelting down when they're briefly outside. Otherwise, though it's floored with large square pavers, it's unusable. 

My little hexagon-shaped garden shed holds garden tools, including a wheelbarrow and often unused bags of soil that will overwinter to fill next summer's garden pots. The other, much larger shed, is one that Irving put together about twenty years ago from a kit, and it stores lawn mower, snow thrower, a set of scaffolds, ladders, winter tires and other like things -- including some summer garden furniture.

First out of storage was the glider (which had to be put together again) and the love-seat bench, both meant for the deck, stored in the large garden shed. The wrought-iron table that accompanies them was stored under the deck, and up it came, its glass top rediscovered, everything scrubbed down and for the past few weeks it's been allowing us comfortable leisure time out on the deck with Jackie and Jillie.

Although we get quite comfortable there, reading the newspapers, talking, dozing, sheltered from the sun by the canopy above, Jackie and Jillie get restless. They don't appreciate exposure to the heat of a summer day, unless there's a good reason for it, like going off for prolonged hikes through the nearby forest trails. It doesn't take long before they're anxious to return indoors, and they let us know it. We put out a fresh water bowl for them, share the comfort of the cushioned loveseat and glider with them, but it's the cool comfort of the house interior they prefer.

Once they're back in the house they realize we're outside and they're inside, and they're unhappy about that turn of events. So they linger at the sliding glass doors yearning to have us back indoors with them. It's one of those 'can't win' situations. This morning, Irving decided it was time to set up our usual seating arrangement at the front of the house; another wrought-iron table, a sun umbrella, and two chairs of the same design and vintage as the deck's loveseat.

The chairs were stored in the garden shed, the table under the deck, the umbrella and its stand in the garage. Go figure; some assembly required. Another scrub-down and once everything was in place it was time to plop down and relax, and feel comfortable with the weather while not expending any energy, surveying the surrounding close landscape of the garden. Another dilemma raises itself; no room on the chairs to share with Jackie and Jillie, so they mill about restlessly, conveying an unspoken but obvious message that 'hey, wouldn't it be a great idea to go back into the house?!'

Finally, time to trot off to the ravine, Jackie and Jillie triumphantly leading the way, we in tow after them. True, once on the forest trails with the forest canopy shielding us there was some relief from the close heat of a sun burning through a dense cloud cover. Maybe it'll rain while we're out? Who cares, it would relieve the heat and humidity, right?

Well, it didn't rain and our trek was enjoyable as usual, and uninterrupted by the presence of anyone else. Everyone's off shopping, exulting in the lifted lockdown and all commercial outlets, grills, restaurants and bars now once again accessible. Works for everyone; those doing the shopping and treating themselves to the open patios and us having the forest to ourselves.