The Orchard

We have 7 fruit trees in our backyard -- two of which we don't know the variety yet.  O, the suspense!  I love to refer to that space as The Orchard because it really feels like it's so far away.  I imagine myself saying things like, "Honey, I'll be out in the orchard," or "These are orchard-fresh apricots."  Maybe I should start calling my crocs "orchard shoes" to give them an air of sophistication.

One of my favorite leftovers we found when we moved in was this lovely chair.  Rarely do I feel so simultaneously luxurious and dowdy.

Places I recall having these chairs all bring back fond memories:  Forest Home main camp pool (think CCAs and the summer I spent as the waterfront manager), the pool at my grandparents' condo in San Dimas (my grandma Mimi loved to lie in the sun and was a big fan of taking us to the pool - I loved opening the gate using the key on a long piece of orange yarn), and Palm Springs (where I had a fabulous bachelorette weekend with some of my best girlfriends).

So on Sunday, while planning (read: avoiding) how to tackle my to-do list, I slathered on the SPF and read half of a good-enough-for-the-beach book.  I could just about drink the scent of those orange blossoms.