the fish are jumping and the cotton is high

So yesterday was a little more than a little surreal given that it started with putting to bed a two-day long semantic argument with a wholesaler (which I think I won) then a surprise drop-in from a dear friend from London.  Much time was spent on the front porch, catching up, drinking beer & taking photographs of peonies inspired by these lovely works by Kari Herer:

Hers – courtesy of her etsy store which you should check out and buy some stuff from.

My not-nearly-as-moody-or-arty peonies.

The daughter gave me shit for snipping a couple (only 2!) on the basis that they ‘better left in nature.’  Screw that; they’re my peonies and it’s my prerogative.

And an obligatory (still in nature) ant pic because ants love peonies and I love all things buggy.

The surrealities came when we were visited by a door-to-door star salesman (which I could try to explain but it would get long and sordid and I’d rather just leave that up to your imaginations – we did buy stars, though, it has to be said) and Wayne Coyne’s doppleganger walked by.