Three days removed from an invigorating three-night stay on Hornby Island, the drive and all those ferries (Attila riding shotgun), to celebrate, with fifteen others, Scott’s 60th birthday at the former home (now his family’s) of Doris and Jack Shadbolt; studio visits with Wayne Ngan and Gordon Payne, the ritual walk to Downes Point, the annual Hornby Island Plant Sale (where I bought a humongous cluster of Siberian irises), and all that time on my knees, weeding the garden behind the house, my favorite place, the garden where Doris grew herbs and vegetables, and a magnificent rose that is so deer-protected one needs a ladder to see it. Not sure when I’ll be back, but I always enjoy my time there.