Our drive to New Hampshire a week ago was uneventful, but long and somewhat tiring. Irving did all the driving, I don't drive. The puppies were content to sit between us, Jillie leaning her little head on Irving's lap and Jackie watching the passing scene from my lap until they both fell asleep and slept most of the trip. The weather was fine, overcast and cool, but no rain. We had no problems getting through US customs but Irving had stopped beforehand at Canada Customs where it was explained we would need to fill out online return questionnaires before crossing back into Canada to present them on our return.

 

We stopped after crossing the border at the usual Vermont welcome centre. There we took the puppies for a little walk before settling ourselves down at a picnic table to eat our 'brunch'. No breakfast this morning, but at around 1:30 pm we had clementines, bananas, sandwiches, tea and coffee. Jackie and Jillie had eaten breakfast, but at the stop they shared a boiled egg between them and part of our sandwiches.

 

When we passed through Franconia Notch after crossing into New Hampshire the cloud cover was so dense and low it wasn't possible to see the summits of the mountains we passed. But rain held off. After we settled into our cottage and emptied the truck of all our luggage, we set off again to Hannaford's to buy the week's groceries. So it was fairly late when all of us had dinner, and not long after that we went off to bed.

 

When we left New Hampshire yesterday morning it was in a heavy downpour, relentless, constant and copious. Sightlines were almost non-existent and driving some of those mountain hairpin turns got pretty exciting, particularly given the big trucking rigs that seem to specialize in sending thick, opaque showers onto windshields. Irving is a dexterous driver and we made good time. There was no respite from the rain; if we enjoyed a brief period of relief from the heavy downpour, it was brief indeed before we entered yet another squall, one after another. Some pretty reckless drivers out there.

 

Rain, as it happened, followed us all the way home. And once home it kept raining. Still, we did a ritual tour of the garden, grateful everything for the most part survived, thanks to a week of wet weather. We were amazed, as we always are, at what a difference a week makes in a garden. The perennials' succession of flowering, the growth of all the vegetation never fails to surprise us. I thought Irving would take it easy, unpack today, but he insisted on getting everything in the house.

 

It was good to sleep in our own bed last night, and Jackie and Jillie thought so, too. Needless to say, early to bed, early to rise, though not too early. Fruit and an oatmeal breakfast, tea and coffee seemed just right. Irving went out to pick up his new eyeglasses, ready at last, and to drop by the bank and to pick up a cauliflower, orange juice and blueberries. In his absence, I baked chocolate cupcakes, put on a chicken soup, and began to put some things in order.

 

And then it was time to take the puppies out for their afternoon hike through our own forest. Which looked greener, brighter and crisper than ever. A cool and windy day, some sun and some showers. We managed to make it through a long circuit with the sky holding back the clouds so eager to release their burden. They did just that, in fact, a few hours after we returned home again.

 

In the ravine we saw the thimbleberry shrubs had already begun to flower, and blackberries were in full flower. There were buttercups gleaming in some stray sunbeams, and the hazelnut shrubs were starting to fill in their nuts. The trails were even wetter than when we left, last week, given the unending rain events that kept occurring throughout the week. 

 

The sad fate of the forest where so many old pines and poplars had succumbed to the violence of the electrical/wind storm that passed through the area several weeks ago remains in stark evidence of the power of micro-tornadoes passing through in a successive burst of inclement weather. Some Good Samaritan had taken it upon himself to cut up one large tree that had fallen across one of the bridge entrances where one had to duck under at a really bad angle for anyone over 5' in height, like me.

 

We came across our local barred owl sitting regally and unperturbed by the fuss we made over him. For a change there were no crows around to harass him and his mate. Though crook our necks as we might, we were unable to make out the nest this afternoon to catch a glimpse of the nursing owl and the pair's owlets. 

And when we finally returned home again, there was the garden, waiting to be admired and fussed over.
We saw a little wild rabbit fleet as the wind, hop from one part of a garden bed to dive under the thick cover of a bed of large old hostas. The peonies haven't yet bloomed, so we haven't missed anything there. Some of the roses at the front of the house are fully blooming; one very old rose in particular, a rare bloomer that still emits a divine fragrance.