These things are part of who I am. My father was raised on a farm and my mother in a small town in Georgia. We visited often and still visit Georgia during the summer. The land, my love of gardening, the sound of rain on tin roofs, the crow of my grandmother's rooster at sunrise, gnats, homemade churned ice cream are part of who I am. It's nice to dream. Even better to pursue them. Time has passed and I don't know how I got here. I was living life. Life can go fast. High school, years of college, the birth of my daughter, buying my first house, marriage. Trying to live fugal. So what's the point? A small space can still be beautiful. When I look at my plants I don't see what could be, I see their beauty and I'm soothed, happy, and all is right for a while. Thanks for letting me rant.
|Cat mint and lilies starting to bloom.|
|Planted the black eye Susan vines and they look dead and wilted. Hopefully the roots are alive and they'll survive.|
|They're supposed to be red and pink. They're looking orange.|
|That's looking wilted. I watered it on Sunday with the hose. You wouldn't know it.|
|The creeping Jenny is not taking transplanting well.|
|Waiting for salvia, day lily and balloon flower to bloom.|