After buying some badly needed new jeans, two pair of which he wanted shortened because he detests lengths that rub on the heels of footwear and fray, Irving set about shortening them. I pinned them to the right height he wanted while he modelled them, and he decided he would do the sewing. Actually, insisting that he would. It's not that he's never held a needle and thread before. He just said I have enough to do and he's perfectly capable of doing it himself. And he did.

I'm still not accustomed to his doing this sort of thing, it makes me uncomfortable. For one thing I'm able to do it much faster...and to my critical eye, do a better job of it. After all, I've had a lot more experience over the years, sewing, mending. But he was steadfast in his resolve, and while I went about deep-cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms after breakfast, he pulled out my sewing basket and went at it.

 Could be that because my eyes aren't as keenly sighted and my fingers not as nimble as they once were, so that I often ask him to thread needles for me that he's so firm about it. In one sense I don't mind, in another I do. But he set himself the task and though it took him hours to do, he did it. Watching and listening to lectures by Thomas Sowell, for the most part. Keeping his mind busy in concert with his fingers. And damn, he also ironed them himself!

We went out much later this afternoon than we usually do, for our ravine circuit. Turned out another coolish, sunny and breezy day. A perfectly lovely summer day. Earlier, I'd taken the puppies out for a bit into the backyard and we decided to go have a look at the top of the rock garden where the usual suspects are flourishing. Every year since the time I originally put in a few seeds of morning glories, they've reseeded themselves without fail.

So many of the plants appear that they would take over the entire area, which has me plucking hundreds of them out of the soil, and leaving just enough to climb the fence separating our back from our neighbours'. They're lavish growers and bloomers, and they've taken off handsomely this year as always. I also yank away any that have a tendency to grow into and over the seldom-used gate that enters the backyard from the rock garden. But they've foiled me yet again this year. 

While out on our ravine trek we met up with Rajinder who has taken, since her retirement, to going out for daily turns in the ravine. She is incredibly busy, a woman who was and remains capable of doing so many things tucked into the space of a day. They've just returned from a trip to Toronto to visit with their daughter and her family, a chance for them to see their three beautiful little grandchildren. Rajinder retired from a civil service management job just recently and she really misses her work. She juggled a career while raising two children, looking after her home and maintaining close contact with their extended family.

And she's struggling to adjust to life with no outside occupation. She was so invested in her career, it meant a lot for her confidence in life and now she feels at loose ends. She doesn't smile as readily as before but when she does it's a brilliant smile, one of the most genuine one might ever see. She worries about her daughter, who is also immersed in a career, a management professional like her mother, while raising three children. She doesn't know how her daughter manages as well as she does, but on the other hand, Loveleen had her mother's example...

We went on to stop by the meadow before finally turning our steps toward completing our daily trek through the forest trails. It was late by then, the sun no longer full on the meadow, fewer bees and butterflies around. The wildflowers while recovering from the latest battering of the wild rainstorms of several days back, are also now reaching the end of their bloom season, and that's sad. There's some rust, some powdery mildew, but the bright colours of the flowers remain cheerful, the landscape enchanting.