The Ice Cream Did Not Smell Like Roses

These past few days, it seems that everyone in the greater Seattle area has been enjoying the delights of a flawless summer weekend.

Backyard movie nights.
Outdoor music festivals.
Family picnics at the park.
Camping trips.
Kayaking excursions.
Neighborhood barbecues.
Outings to the water park.

My  friends and neighbors found limitless ways to take full advantage of the wonderful weather and summertime bliss. They are truly making the most of this fantastic time of year.

You know what I did all weekend?

Worked in my garden.

Now, I'm not complaining. No one forced me to spend my entire weekend digging holes, pruning rose bushes, chopping limbs out of overgrown trees, or pulling a mountain of weeds. I did those things of my own free will, and when I wandered through my garden today, I thanked myself for investing my time as I did.

But last night, on Sunday evening, I'm not gonna lie. I was feeling just a little bit sorry for myself. Too much work makes anyone dull, and I delivered an uncompromising lecture to myself about taking some time to stop and smell the roses.

Well. Technically, to STOP smelling the roses and do something else for a change.

So today, on yet another gorgeously perfect Seattle summer day, I headed down to the Mukilteo waterfront. I bought myself an ice cream cone, then I walked over to the beach, sat down on a bench, and read my book in the warm sunshine.

And now I feel better. The end.