Sunday morning, thankful.

The Austen film festival is still in progress. Last night Mansfield Park, appropriate for the first Juneteenth national holiday. For people who haven't read it, it touches on the issue of slavery and how Mansfield Park itself is financed by the proceeds from a slave plantation in Antigua, and the moral dilemma arising from it.

This version gets graphic on the subject, far beyond the subtleties of Austen, but it's worth seeing. One of those movies where you keep recognizing actors and wondering where you saw them before.

The potatoes are flourishing

And the Japanese maple, sunlight shining through. It's doubled its height this year. I guess it's happy.

And a recent HOA meeting revealed that the fence project is nowhere, Board still receiving material from the contractor which they haven't read, more contractor demands. 

I suspect the contractor wants out and is making it so difficult that the HOA will dump them, no liability on them. 

Anyway we're now all continuing as if the project were not happening.  I've moved the ficus again, onto earth, hitched to the fence. She may as well have the chance to put down roots if the new fence isn't happening right now. No reason she shouldn't have a good season.

And here's the latest cause for joy. Next to the latest butternut walnut bread is -- a strong cup of Vietnamese coffee. Made by boiling milk with the coffee briefly, then straining it, and it's really strong but not bitter.

It's the first time in years I've been able to enjoy coffee, the real thing, snarling with caffeine and flavor, without hideous pain in a few minutes. Not just a bit of heartburn. More the kind of pain where you have to hold onto something till it passes. Every mouthful of anything but yogurt, instant reaction.

The reason was severe side effects from a medication designed to protect my aging bones. Severe enough for scary emergency testing procedures to determine  if something really serious was going on. Nope. Just this medication attacking my entire digestive tract. I dumped the medication instantly on my doctor's finding. Iatrogenic illness, I was a living example.

Took years to recover from, and I had to quit all sorts of things. Including my little evening glass of wine, coffee, cocoa, sigh.

I was always a coffee drinker in preference to tea, and heaved a  moan or two when I had to switch to tea in the morning. I learned to like it eventually, but there's nothing as good as a coffee jolt. 

Excuse the medical info, but it explains why this simple afternoon snack is such an excitement. Wheeee, I'm back! Maybe I can even have a little glass of prosecco..

Doesn't take much to thrill some of us!

Happy Sunday!