From This Day Backward

Did I really read this book without burning it? The book by Kenneth J. Foreman is even more irritating than I remembered. I am surprised Mama kept it. If she had been dead when it was placed in the trash, I would have believed that she did it.

Now, I am doubting that this is the right book. I recall being miffed by its preachiness. I wondered how Mama felt about getting this as a wedding gift. I even looked through her wedding gift records. It had the givers names and ” books” was listed.

I discussed this topic with my sister again this morning. Then I read this book for the third and hopefully last time. In my mind I held three points of view.

Contents

The first point of view was an attempt to see it through my mother’s unmarried eyes of 1952.

My adorable parents

The second was through my miffed attitude at the time I found the book in the trash in 2023. The third is of me sitting in my deceased parents’ mountain house built at the end of a long marriage. Considering this little book while safe in my haven.

My notes on this little powder keg of a book.

It is almost a book discouraging marriage except for the most devout and worthy Christians.  Pagans are insulted numerous times. I would feel unworthy of marriage if I had read this beforehand. My sis and I think my mama was probably too busy to read it before the wedding. There was no evidence of it ever being read before I read it. Oh, the irony!

If you know someone who is in a questionable engagement, may I suggest this book as a gift? (Only on Esty or ebay.) It will cause a doubt storm so fierce they may never get married.

I truly LOVE these people right here.

I am surprised that From This Day Forward needed a third printing in 1953. I will say it tries to put the skids on the conveyor belt carrying young women and men toward the altar. This book has the exact opposite effect of the shotgun at a wedding.

I will share several stand-outs that were particularly urksome.

  1. The man says “honor her” in the vows. The woman says “inspire him.” Only the woman wears a ring. Clunk.
  2. Take This Woman seems to imply all women have multiple personalities while men are rock-steady and understandable. I did appreciate that women have wider horizons and see farther into tomorrow.
  3. Take This Man has several interesting insights. Men are childlike. Their work and leisure will not be shared nor understood. The wife may be jealous of both. I did like the plea for patience from both parties.
  4. Do not expect improvements after the ceremony. Some marriages are suffocating.
  5. Wealth may be as bad for the marriage as becoming poor. Temptations, motives and how wealth is acquired are covered.
  6. Sickness and health touched on how an illness and suffering may change one’s personality. The sick person should be forgiven for transgressions.
  7. Duration may seem like punishment. Some “til death” marriages are painful.  The keys to a long happy marriage are humor and honesty. I do agree.

The one part that set my hair on fire was on page 35 about WOMEN.  I quote:

( Had you ever noticed that it is men physicians, counselors and ministers who have to allay the nervous tensions of women, and seldom the other way around?)

Written in 1950, when very few women had the opportunity to become physicians, counselors or ministers. Pause to put out your hair ladies.

I will not burn this book. It will be in Gran’s china cabinet with the wedding book. They belong together like oil and water.

This little treasure from the trashcan was both infuriating and enlightening.

FLOW

Why these Two Books? Why the Trash?

Before I cover each book in detail, I would like to analyze them as a pair. I would also like to consider why they might have been put in the trash in the office of Enwood.

There is no point speculating how the books were moved from wherever to the trash. My sister and I both saw the books in the trashcan. Neither of us put them there. The why is worth considering.

Both titles are from Christian rituals. From This Day Forward is part of the marriage vows. Deliver Us From Evil is part of the Lord’s prayer. I do not think either of my parents would send a sign trashing the church. They were both very religious and involved in their church for over sixty years.

Although ‘Deliver Us From Evil’ is part of a Christian vow, the book was about the United States’ involvement in Vietnam. I consider it propaganda.

If I were speculating on why these books were put in a trashcan together, I might think that it could have been encouragement in the questioning of these two establishments; Christian marriage and governmental power.

I was living in the Enwood house at the time. I was sorting things to be given away and sold. It was a difficult period of trying to balance the needs of my family at home and mama’s many needs at the home. My sister and I had good helpers or we would have suffered terribly under the strain.

I had lost faith in the church and the government at this point. I felt unmoored after losing my precious father. Now, I was helping my sister preparing to empty our home place as mama was declining.

Two of the establishments that should have given me a sense of stability, church and country,  were no longer trusted. There was a lot of isolation and uncertainty at this time for my family.

I felt guilty about my doubting the traditional establishment of marriage. I wondered what each of my parents would have said about my negative attitude.

I was also very disturbed by the political climate. I have always cared about issues, being loyal to one party was not important.

I know hindsight is supposedly more accurate than forethought.  If I were to seriously try to parcel out a meaning from these two books in a trashcan I think I could settle on either or both of my parents encouraging me to question the traditional establishments and not mindlessly follow tradition.

I have discussed this with my sister.  I consider signs as nudges to help us mortals. I am no expert. This is all new to me. I am very analytical, so I ponder anything that is unusual or out of place.

My next post will be my interpretations of the two books.

FLOW

Costume or Camouflage

I have addressed this issue before in two posts, ‘Hiding on Stage’ and ‘Whose Clothes Are These?’ are the titles. (Links below)

I usually have an identity conundrum when the seasons change and while shopping for clothes, shoes and/or jewelry.

I catch myself whispering ” You wish you were that person, but you are not.” as I touch some outrageous article that I want but would never wear. Any attention-getting item is considered ‘Costume.’

Most of my warddrobe is for blending. I shoot for natural and neutral. Small, unusual details are the allowed. “Do not notice me, but if you do, here is something interesting.”

I miss my costume days. At least there was a fake sense confidence as my chosen character moved through the scenes of my life. I do not mind the camouflage periods. I feel like an invisible, silent observer. It’s like being in the audience versus on stage, less pressure, more entertainment.

Another conundrum is coming. The weather on the mountain will change quickly. I will return to Wildwood to “shop” in my closests. Things will be chosen or purged.  “Who am I now?” will be the theme…again.

I have accepted this ‘Costume or Camouflage’ phenomenon. I am happy to still be asking the question of “Who are you now?” instead of being stuck with a supplied, inflexible answer.

Look in your closets. Are YOU in there? Really?

FLOW

Whose Clothes are These?

Hiding Onstage

From Many to Only One

I was shocked to find only one Jewel of Opar ‘Limon’ plant while I was home. This lovely plant used to self-sow everywhere. I feared it might become an invasive pest with its long root and many, tiny seeds.

This one ‘Limon’ was growing in the middle of a pot of tiny sedums and weeds. Its bright yellow leaves caught my attention. Once I was reminded of ‘Limon’, I searched for more. There were none. Only one had survived my neglect.

I am so grateful that this one jewel of a seed survived in that pot of sedums. I pulled the whole mess from the pot and cracked the soil in half. Then I carefully removed and replanted the ‘Limon.’

Jewels of Opar ‘Limon’

The weeds were removed and the sedums replanted. The ‘Limon’ has doubled in size since I removed its competition. I must make certain Mr. Flower and Rose are aware of its value.

It is the only jewel left. Another close call on Wildwood. Having treasures that can die is difficult. I should have collected stamps!

FLOWER

Gran’s Jewelry Box

Gran’s jewelry box stayed in the bottom drawer of Mama’s dresser. I think itade her sad. Mama’s fancy black jewel box was displayed on the top. Now, Mama is gone and her house has been sold. My sis has her black, musical jewel box and I have Gran’s white one. It will stay in my closet with my jewelry tools.

My Gran’s jewelry box

Every time I open it I feel the past seeping out. The inside of the box smells like Chanel powder. That is the Aunt Ethel and Gran auroma. Mama did not have a signature fragrance because many perfumes made Daddy sneeze. I think of this, too, when I smell the Chanel.

This box full of unusual, vintage costume jewelry. I remember these pieces being worn by my Gran, Aunt Ethel (in photos) and Mama.  I have converted some clip-on earrings into pins or pierced earrings. I will wear those.

Some of these pieces are broken, but have salvageable parts. I have tools to work on these. Little by little I will fix them or let them go, just like I have done with my plants. It is a necessary purging process. We cannot keep lugging the past around in the present and dragging it all into the future. That is referred to as baggage, not treasure.

Nice compartments and hooks for necklaces.

Here are the photos of some of the old pieces of costume jewelry.  I find them interesting. They will probably look familiar to those of you who have inherited your grandma’s or mother’s jewelry.

There was only one earring, so I made it into a brooch.
I think this was Aunt Ethel’s favorite set. I am keeping it.
Red branch coral from Czechoslovakia
I used the jeweler’s loop to identify these.
I wear this necklace. It is heavy.
I made a brooch out of one of these.
Glued pin to back.
I have seen many pins like this on the internet.
These were clip-ons.
Crazy “fish egg” necklace with broken clasp.
These are lovely fake pearls. Clasp is broken. One string has a repair knot.

Gran’s jewelry box does not take up much space in my house. In my mind it looms large. I hope I will do right by its contents. There are quite a few things that I inherited that seem much bigger than their actual size. They have a presence. Sometimes good, other times not.

FLOW

The Comic Book Sign from My Daddy

This happened in 2024. I was reminded of it today while purging an Enwood box in the Wildwood library. I am years behind due to circumstances beyond my control.
I am irritated by mess and chaos. Since the library is full of my mess and chaos, I figured no one else would deal with it. I purged a big plastic box of remnants from the Enwood. This had in it the comic book that was part of the sign from Daddy.

It was 2024. I was working alone in Daddy’s woodworking shop beside the house on Enwood. It was still dirty and messy. This is not how my Daddy usually kept things, but his arthritis, age and eventually cancer had limited his energy. Cleaning up sawdust and putting away tools moved down and eventually off the “TO DO” list. The shop was an overwhelming place for me. I started with cleaning because it could be mindless work. Organizing required thought. Cleaning was automatic. I talked to Daddy as I worked. I spent a lot of my time in there scolding him for not giving me more “Man Lessons.”

I did not know how to use many of the tools. I did not even know the names of some, much less the value. I felt unprepared for the tasks ahead. I was mad and cried a lot. I do not remember if I was having a pity hissy fit when this happened, because my train of thought was interrupted by a crashing sound on the other side of the shop.

I turned around to see that the top end of one of Daddy’s fishing rods from the top shelf had swooped down and slammed its end onto a comic book that happened to be lying out on the workbench.

I am new to this sign business. The obvious thought was that Daddy was telling me not to throw away the comic book. I looked through it for money. I looked up the comic book on-line. Not worth much. Was the fishing rod of value? No. Maybe he just wanted me to quit whining?

Today, I pulled that comic book out again and wondered what significance it may have that I have not discovered yet?

I took took photos of the front and the back for the blog. That’s when I noticed the advertisement for the Red Rider BB gun on the back.

Oh, dear! This looks just like the BB gun we gave away when my sis and I sold the other guns to a gun store. I hope that thing wasn’t valuable! Maybe if I had had a few more “Man Lessons” I would have known better. Oops, I missed it again. My bad Dad!

FLOW

Three Fawns in the Yard

The two bold ones stick together.

Two bold fawns


The third hangs back peeking from behind cover.

Two fawns running.

When the pair get out of sight,

Scared #3 behind and bawling

the third starts bawling and running after them.

Fawn drama…

from three fawns in the yard.

FLOW

Move and Clean-up Over: Re-hab Begins

The digging up of all plants to be saved, weeding and mulching took me, Mr. Flower and the crew three days. Luckily we had several good rains the previous two days, so that digging was not difficult and the plants were hydrated. 

Job used three dozen bales of pine needles.

It was hot, hard work. We took breaks and drank lots of water. We wore ThorGrip nitrile gloves which are a must for many jobs. These are the best. They grip well and do not tear easily.

ThorGrip Heavy Duty Nitrile gloves with grip on both sides

I had labeled the plants to be moved and their fabric pots ahead of time. All the stakes and deer fence has been removed. The years of battling the herd are over. Our yard has not looked this normal since 2018.

Cut and cleaned iris bed ready to be mulched around.

I am relieved to know my favorite plants are safe. I am happy my gardens look beautiful again. I no longer sigh and shake my head as I tour the yard.

This is the first time in three years that I have been able to do this level of physical work. My hips held up to the hills. I do have several bruises, scratches and insect bites but no joint pain or hip dislocations. I am worn out but feel a level of confidence in my mobility that I have not felt in a long time.

Stakes and fence rings gone. Hooray

All the daylilies have been cleaned and inspected. The tubers have been detangled and covered with potting soil.

Transplants in great shape and safe from the hungry herd.

I have lightly watered all transplants just enough to stay hydrated. The rest is up to them. They will be kept damp and in the shade for about a month.

Stokes Aster stand was replanted in a box. Dug up crocus in pot. Keeping them under an azalea for shade.
Tiger lilies, double Splendens in a box. Bulbs covered with potting soil.

Plants that recover and perk up will be listed for adoption. I hope this can be done in the fall. I will plant a few of my absolute favorites inside the fence.

I am happy this is done. I plan to invest my time and energy in other things after this. This move is my gift to myself, my family and my home at Wildwood. I just cannot expect my family to take over the huge job of maintaining this many plants.

My hope is that the herd will disperse now that the deer delicatessen has been removed. They need to forage on native plants not gorge on exotics.

Natural balance is best.

FLOWER

Dovey has a Baby!

I am thrilled to announce that our Dove in Residence, Dovey, has hatched her egg.

Dovey and Fuzzy


The fuzzy baby peeked out yesterday. It has followed my movements with its tiny, black beady eyes all morning.

Peeking

Dovey is a good mama. Resting on her nest as her hatchling watches its grandma garden. Ha.

FLOWER and feathered family

My Happy Fatsia

It has taken years for this ‘Spider’s Web’ Fatsia japonica to look this healthy. I pulled it out a few feet from the corner to give it more room and rain.


I guess that was a good call. I am fascinated by varieagated leaves. Each leaf has its own pattern of white.

Spider’s Web Fatsia japonica

This Fatsia finally looks happy.

Preparing to Move the Gardens

I will not get to Wildwood until Monday afternoon. The un-landscaping crew comes in Tuesday morning. I am anxious about keeping the names with the plants.

I have made two name tags for each plant. One is for me to attach to the plant itself. The other is for the handle of its new container.  I have ordered various sizes of fabric pots and sturdy paper bags with handles. Unlabeled and mislabeled plants will not be adopted by serious gardeners.

Doing this part of the job early is giving me some peace. Once these daylilies and other perennials are safely moved inside the fence, I can take my time rehabbing them and rehoming them.

Plant labels made ahead of time.

I made lists of what plants are in each bed from memory. These gardens have been my joy for over thirty year. I have planted, cared for, and photographed each of these plants many times. I know them well.

Two labels for each plant arranged by garden location.

On nights when I could not sleep, I walked my gardens in my mind and named each plant. That is how well I know my green friends. Knowing they will be safe is the goal. What happens next is up to me, not the herd.

In May,  I hauled two of my favorite daylilies up the mountain. I looked in the garden where they should have been and saw only tiny, thin, green shoots. The deer have favorites, too. They ate these two as they emerged from the ground.

Rescued daylilies

Now, ‘Nowhere to Hide’ and ‘Changing Latitudes’ are safe and healthy with me.  There are deer here as well, so I will be bringing these back down the mountain to stay inside the fence on Wildwood.

FLOWER’s flowers will be safe soon.

Sigh

A Town Full of Art and Flowers

We spent the perfect day in a charming little town in the North Carolina mountains. We have never visited West Jefferson before. We will be going back.

Mr. Flower with the cows.
I loved these sweet potato vines!

The place and the people were lovely.
There are shops full of art and clothing.

If you get hungry or thirsty there are quite a few cafes and ice cream shops and a giant cheese, candy and wine store.

I was there to see the many murals. I did not photograph all of them.

Flowers were planted in containers and planters everywhere. These were amazingly well-maintained. That feat impressed me since it is almost July.


I had to pause several times to keep from getting overwhelmed. There was so much to see! I am glad it was not crowded on a Tuesday afternoon.

Art All Around

What a great way to spend a day!

FLOWER

Blackberry Lilies

I love this easy plant for many reasons. It is not needy. It self sows.

It mixes with other Bellamcanda to make various colors.

Its spent flower petals twist into little buns on the stalk/peduncle.

Spent blooms with buns

It gets its name from the fact that after its seed pods burst open, the shiny black seed clusters look like blackberries. (not shown)

These green pods will burst open to expose black, shiny seeds.

Orange freckled is the wild type. Other variations my be called Candy lilies.

FLOWER loves Bellamcanda

An Alpaca Farm Adventure

I had heard about Apple Hill Farm from many sources. I decided it was time for a visit, when a member of the writing group I am in wrote a poem about a donkey there named Buckeroo.

Buckeroo

I have always loved donkies and wanted to meet one that was poem worthy. Buckeroo did not disappoint, but my heart was stolen instantly by a baby Angora goat named Ethel.

Ethel

The main attraction of the farm is the gorgeous alpacas. They had just been sheered so looked very sleek and clean.

Three of the many alpacas

The all the farm animals are guarded by donkies, and great Pyrenees dogs. 

Pyrenees Puppy

There was one cow, two “miniature” pigs and two horses to finish out the menagerie.

Either Laverne or Shirley

The fibers from the lamas, alpacas and goats are spun into fibers. These are sold as skeins or made into clothing items.

The socks, hats, etc. are sold in one of the barns at the farm or at the Apple Farm Outpost in Banner Elk.

Mr. Flower and I enjoyed our outing with the alpacas…

The Flowers

FLOWER

Picking Blueberries

We went to a near-by farm to pick organic blueberries. We have done this for years. They give you your own bucket, then you lose yourself in the blueberry forest and pick off any row.

Each row is labeled by its hybrid name. When you are done you take your full buckets to the gazebo and pay for what you picked (that you did not eat.)

Just the beginning. Much tasting.


I lost Mr. Flower in the blueberry forest. He was silently picking while others chattered away. I finally spotted his legs down an empty row.

There he be.

I heard a little voice several rows over claim that he had picked one hundred thousand blueberries. A group of women were joking that they were picking only off the ‘Climax’ rows.

I have been eating my blueberries several times a day. They are delicious!

I love gathering my own food from its source. I am grateful to all the people that grow our food. My family would starve if I had to grow and harvest our sustenance.

Nature takes what it wants, no matter how much you need it.

FLOW may turn blue

The Disappearing Trees

My daddy wanted those two maple trees down for decades. We scolded him about wishing to kill trees in someone elses’ yard. He kept wanting to call the owners and ask to have them removed. We did not want to insult our neighbors, so we discouraged him.
If I had not skipped Zumba this morning, I would have missed this monumental event. What a shock that would have been to walk out on the porch after the trees disappeared. I was here to watch and document the whole thing. I took photos and videos and sent them to the family. I called Mr. Flower and my sis. Yes, I cried…tears of joy.

Maple tree hooked to crane and cut at bottom

I just wish Bop was here to see one of those maples go down. It was hooked to a crane, cut, lifted and chipped up in a matter of minutes. This was unbelievable after wishing the tree gone for decades to see it disappear within minutes.

My mountain has had lightning trouble. We had a poplar struck several years ago. Our neighbor also had one struck last year. A house across the hollow was struck recently. It left a big gash in the ground. Stay tuned for that.

So one of the hated maples and a row of cedars disappeared across the street. I watched from the porch. I take my role as the neighborhood’s Gladys Kravitz seriously.

Cedar in the air
Laying down the cedar
Chipping up the cedar

We have many big trees on our property. I know who to call to get them removed if needed.

The efficient tree removers

I hope Daddy was watching!

FLOWER with a new view

Sun Setting Over Nashville

On our way home, we discussed our favorite events of the trip. The food was crazy good everywhere we went.

Assorted seafood on ice


Rose loved her times in the pool.

Rose in a doughnut under waterfeature

We all enjoyed the music on the riverboat cruise.

Performers on the General Jackson

Mr. Flower and I were surprised that our favorite time was sitting quietly in the rooftop bar of our hotel watching the sunset.

Sunset
Lights coming on

After days of rushing around it was nice to slow down and let some time go by without doing a thing.


SLOW

Kindness on His Corner

There were spectacular sideshows on the sidewalks of Nashville. No need to enter a bar to see a parade of characters. The tourists made up one part of a two-part drama that ran simultaneously on the same sidewalks. I had to pull over to give the actors my full attention. It was easy to keep the tourist drama troupe separate from the homeless group.

The tourist wore cowboy/girl boots and cowboy/girl hats. Females donned sparkly shorts or skirts and lots bling. The gals outfits displayed little fabric and exposed lots of skin. There were tattoos peeking out from under all garments. The tourist troupe took many selfies and group photos. The homeless were phoneless.

Busy sidewalks

From my perch in the bar window, I could watch the double dramas play out in air-conditioning. The rowdy revelers moved in groups. There was some wobbling and groping going on.The homeless moved solo or staked out a spot and stayed there. They wore what they had, whether it fit or not.

The band on stage, inside played really well, but my attention was held by sights on the steamy sidewalk. I considered the band  background music for the silent, outdoor drama.

There was a real life occurring on the corner. A man I named “Kindness” and his docile dog lounging on its bed were setup on the edge of the sidewalk just below my lookout.  I call the man Kindness because his large, cardboard sign read SEARCHING FOR HUMAN KINDNESS.

Sketch of Kindness and his persnickety pit.

Several blonde women gave Kindness money. One tourist sat beside him and his dog to have his picture taken. Then the tourist got up, shook Kindness’s hand and walked away. Wasn’t that kind of him?

Kindness tried to share his food with his dog but the dog sniffed it reluctantly. I hope the food was not the spoiled spoils from a hot trashcan. Kindness kept putting the food near the dog’s mouth until it ate it.

Kindness and his dog had the perfect spot where the sidewalk widened just before a crosswalk on a busy corner. The metal poles between the street and the sidewalk kept them from being stepped on.

Poles between street and sidewalk.

Kindness must be an important fixture of the homeless community. I did not take his photo. I sketched him in my notes. He is a human not a public figure/fixture, so a photo would have been inappropriate. Other homeless humans came by to visit Kindness on his corner.

First came woman I named “Toy” because her sign, written in red marker,  read SAVING FOR A SEX TOY. Toy brought Kindness a pair of black shoes to try on. They fit so he kept them on and slipped his white, speckled crocks into his bag.

Later Toy returned with an opened bag of chips and sat beside Kindness. They both ate out of the bag until it was empty. They did not offer the sleeping pit any chips.

A small male I named “Pants” had on loose jeans that required being held up by one hand as he held his sign with the other. Pants came by many times from the same direction. I guess he was circling the same block over and over. He would glance into the trashcans each time he passed.

Covered cans secured to sidewalk.

Pants paused once during his rounds to borrow a marker from Kindness. Pants changed something on his cardboard sign and continued his one-way, circular route. I never saw what his sign said but it was torn from a Capri Sun box.

The band in the Luke Bryan bar was great but the sidewalk parade was where the real action was. Too much and too little right there together.

It’s hard for a band to compete with all that sparkle and suffering.

FLOW

Where is Thomas Edison?

The deer usually leave my dahlias alone,

but not this year.

Thomas A. Edison has disappeared.

Snow Country dahlia

He was between Snow Country and Firepot.

Firepot dahlia

He was there, but now he’s not!


Damn deer!

FURIOUS FLOWER

The Mural and the Trashcan

Sometimes reality photobombs your perfect pictures. This is what happened as I was trying to capture all the musicians in this mural of country music legends.

I saw the man in the white shirt enter my frame and lean in a trashcan. I waited. I thought he was barfing up beer at first, but then he moved to the next can and reached in.

Legends Corner

I think the city is attempting to keep a balance between tourist traffic and a homeless population.

There were homeless mixed in with the crowds on the sidewalks. Many were  carrying bags and folded cardboard signs under their arms. They would come in the souvenier stores to buy drinks and snacks with cash. I observed some homeless drama out the window of the hopping Luke Bryan bar one hot night.

Story will follow.

Once you see them, you can’t not see them.

FLOWER

Staging the Reality of Nashville

I have admitted staging photos in previous posts, but I have never been this guilty before. In nature photography it is taboo to augment reality. Man-made subjects do not have such rules.

Flower art at a park.

I took pictures of what I wanted to remember. I am haunted by scenes I cannot forget.

Man going through the trash. Mural behind and rooftop bar above.


I will share more of this fascinating mural in a later post.

A week in Nashville had many beautiful sights, but there was ugliness everywhere.
I did not photograph the problems of this bustling city, but I have been taking lots of notes.

Tootsies was a favorite in 2014.


Nashville has laws to keep the homeless out of sight. No set-ups or sleeping in public spaces.

This fountain had a person asleep on the edge later that night.


We were rarely approached by these desperate folks. They held up cardboard signs like in Portland and San Diego. Their voices scribbled with markers.

The best shows are on the riverboats. The performers are amazing.
Talented performers on the General Jackson

I sketched some scenes and gave each character a name based on my observations. Yes…there’s a story coming!

The sidewalks were steamy and the smelly trashcans had grates across the tops.

I am sensitive to sounds and it was difficult to find quiet spaces anywhere. I keep Loops earplugs in my purse. I used these numerous times because the noise from bars and traffic was loud.

Talent on stage at Luke Bryan

I need to go through all my notes and sketches and see what rings true about Nashville.

Nashville Music City Center had a guitar and grass on the roof.

I was last there in 2014. It has changed since then and so have I.

FLOW

The Lavender Experiment

Deer do not like the scent of lavender. I decided to plant lavender in my flower beds to deter deer snacking. I wanted to see which lavender hybrids did best here in Zone 7.

The experimental row of lavender.

I purchased seven different varieties.
Here is the list in order of best to worst performance. All of these have survived two years of neglect (except Superblue which died). Keep in mind I only used one of each variety instead of many test plants per hybrid for more data.

1. LLOYD TRAVEN #pp24193( Lavendula x Phenomenal) great form, many flower stalks

LLOYD TRAVEN PP#24193 lavender


2. PROVENCE: nice mound, long stalks, light purple

Provence lavender


3. HIDCOTE: smaller mound, deep purple, chunky blooms

Hidcote lavender


4. PHENOMENAL: tall stalks, survived traffic, lovely green

Phenomenal lavender


5. MUNSTEAD: small mound, lovely gray tint on short stalks, chunky blooms, good size for a pot

Munstead lavender


6. BRIDGET CHLOE: really tall stalks, survived traffic

Bridget chloe lavender


7. SUPERBLUE= died

Lavender row

Any of these will deter deer at close range.

The herd still went behind two lavender plants to ravage this Lacecap Hydrangea. BLAH!

Poor edible lacecap hydrangea
Blooms out of deer range

FLOWER

My Favorite Calla

I have several kinds of callas. My favorite is the tallest, the darkest, and has shimmering leaves.

Hot Chocolate calla


Hot Chocolate demands attention. It’s spathe is a deep burgandy.

Its spadix is the same color with white male flowers barely visible inside on its top portion.

Tiny male flowers

I dissected one to show the structure of the spathe. Male flowers are on the upper part, female flowers are the bumpy structures on the lower part.

Male flowers dried up, females are bumpy

This light pink was a gift, so I do not know its name. I find ants inside many blooms and wonder if they could be a pollinator.

FLOW

My Vision Versus Reality

I get a picture of something in my mind and then tenaciously try to bring it to fruition. I have tried several types of vines on our high posts on the front of the deck. The poles are tall and plain.

My first fiasco was planting wisteria all along the front. I even installed wires to support the vines between posts. I spent hours on a ladder installing eye hooks and stringing wires. When the vines grew rapidly, I spent more hours on the ladder training the vines to the wires. If I was not diligent with my training and trimming the vines would grow through the railing and take over the deck. I now put wisteria on the “never ever” list with ivy and crownvetch.

I fought that wisteria for seven years waiting for its pendulent, purple blooms. Never a purple bud emerged. I ripped up the vines the eighth spring. The wires are still there.

I have planted several other annual vines to climb the posts. Those looked beautiful but had to be removed and replanted each year.

Vine growing fine without me.

My present choice is Confederate Jasmine. It has done well. I have not given it the necessary training, but it is thriving on the highest post beside a bench.

The flowers are sweet little whorls of white with a delicate scent.

Confederate jasmine

This vine is the closest to my vision so far. Confederate jasmine twines itself around anything within its reach, so I do not need to climb on a ladder each spring. I will take that as a win.

Swirls with fragrance

It has taken decades to get this close to my vision, but I think it’ll do.

Confederate jasmine: It’ll do

FLOW

AI Mushroom Id.

This is a first for me. I have used apps to identify plants for years.

Mystery Mushroom

I found this mushroom in the blueberry patch on top of the mulch.

I dissected it because the gills were covered.
The stem is very stout and fibrous.

Dissected mushroom


AI says it is a wine cap mushroom.

Covered gills
Uncovered gills


I NEVER EAT mushrooms I find. I like my liver too much. I think AI did a good job of using the photos I provided to identify this mushroom.


If I had not uncovered the gills, would it have said it was a King Boletto?
I may try it again with another speciman and see if it comes up with the same results.

App identification

FLOWER loves her liver

Sunnylands in Rancho Mirage California

I cannot possibly do this marvelous place justice with words nor photos. It is a famous garden and former home of Walter and Leonore Annenberg. The conference center and grounds opened in 1966.  It has been used by many presidents and famous leaders from all over the world. It was the site of many events of international diplomacy. Queen Elizabeth visited the center in 1983.

There is a famous bench where President Obama sat with China’s president Xi Jinping for a photo during their conference in 2013.

We meant to sit on it for a group photo.

I have never been to such a garden. The beds were arranged in geometric patterns with only one type of plant per bed. They referred to these as ‘specimen gardens.’ I was fascinated by these because you see the same type of plant growing side-by-side with dozens of its clones, but no two are exactly identical. I had to pause and study these groups over and over again.

The shade was greatly appreciated.

The brochure links to a website that describes the trial and error methods used to come up with the best cultivars for each location. It has been like a giant horticultural experiment.

Mix of forms

The history of Sunnylands is covered in a short film. It showed how this gorgeous site was envisioned and created by the Annenbergs. The film also shared how diplomacy used to be.

I particularly loved this canal of river rock.

Soothing sight on a hot afternoon.

This place is worthy of numerous visits. It is an amazing place with a fascinating history.

FLOWER among cacti

Water

There has been drought in many places in North Carolina. Water restrictions are in place in cities. We notice the dryness. We pray for rain. We carefully water our plants in distress. But most of us do not really feel desperate like nature does.


There’s been some shaming here on the mountain. Not by words, but by the actions of my wild neighbors. I must be a better community member to them.

I set up a water bowl with a solar powered fountain. It is pretty and the splashing sounds are soothing. On sunny days its water spout gets high enough to send water outside the rim. To stop this, I just flip the solar pad upside down and leave it in place.

It seems that this caused a new problem. The floating device got in the way of the thirsty wildlife. I know this because two of the arms that keep the floating fountain centered were chewed off. The teeth markers indicate deer.

My friend, Lucy, and I were discussing whether birds need a bath or just like a bath. I said they probably enjoyed a bath but bathing was not as necessary as drinking. Should I apply this belief to my own needs during droughts?

Little bird baths

Soon after this conversation, I spotted little birds taking baths in a waxy box top that held baby plants on the picnic table. They did look like they were enjoying their time splashing around in the box. There was a little line of waiting birds. Waiting in line to enjoy the little bit of available water.

There is an actual birdbath here that got moved under the deck and never put back out in the yard. Mama used to clean it carefully with a brush and refill it every time we came up the mountain.

The dry, unused birdbath

I have not been as thoughtful as she. I will get Mr. Flower to help me move it back out. I plan to keep it cleaned and filled with  water for my wild friends, like a good neighbor should.

FLOW

Deer Damage

I am back at the lake for a weekend. There has been drought conditions here. I expected things to be dry. The unexpected find was the level of deer damage. The herd is hungrier than ever.

We might as well dig up all the hydrangeas.

Butchered bush

They usually leave the tiger lilies alone. Both stands have been beheaded inside support rings. Their are only one or two tops left that may bloom. The rest are done for the year.

Beheaded tigers


The patch of pineapple lilies has been sheared off to only five inches high. I will fence this in tomorrow. The flower stalks emerge later, so they may still be able to bloom.

Eaten pineapple lilies

I still have some Amaryllis/Hippeastrum out in the gardens. Poor Moonscene was mutilated.

The only Moonscene bloom not totally destroyed.
Munched on Moonscene

The two pinks had fences on top, so they are safe.

Atleast sweet little Santiago is safe on the porch.

Santiago

I must accept that this place has reached the point of diminishing returns. It’s tough to see decades of work go down the drain.

I will be rescuing a few favorites and letting the rest go. I am hiring help for a big purge. I have been losing this battle for years now. It is past time to cut my losses.

There have been some good things, too. Rose caught a catfish this evening. 

Catfish:caught and let go

We all got to see the gorgeous fox come out at dusk. I will appreciate what is still here while I am here.

I miss the mountain.

The view from the porch.

FLOW

Plant People Bonding

If you are a Plant Person you know that all you have to do to make friends with other Plant People is recognize one of their plants and call it by name with love in your voice. When people know your plants, they know you.

Yin Yang riverstone art among lantana, bougainvillea and Texas sages

This happens wherever I go. I call a plant name over a wall and next thing I know, I am invited in for a tour or even a concert on a grand piano. Yes…that happened in Bramwell. (Look it up in the search bar.)

My sis and I walked most mornings in Palm Springs. We loved admiring the xeroscape landscaping. I was not familiar with most plants, but one near-by yard was full of old friends that I knew well.

One of the gardeners was outside doing some morning watering. I dropped a few plant names. VOILA!

My new friend Neal

We were invited in to tour the front gardens. We then got to enter a gate to a hidden garden around back only after Neal checked to be sure that Roger had clothes on. It was Naked Gardening Day.

Rogers reflection and a white bird of paradise, begonia, philodendron…

What a plant haven/heaven they have created. I examined every luscious plant. What a collection! Roger gave me tips on growing special plants and koi pond maintenance.

Pond in a pail

These two new friends made our morning extra special. The tour of their private botanical garden was a highlight of an already fabulous adventure. They have developed a microclimate using shade and water to grow plants that would not normally survive in Palm Springs.  Roger is a Plant Whisperer.

Begonias and Wondering Jew, impatiens, coleus

Plant People bond over plants. We have a common passion which instantly connects us. Our blood runs green.

I hope Neal or Roger messages me on this blog. I am wanting to share ‘The Gran Plant’ (redbird cactus) to see if they can get it to bloom.

FLOWER

Walking Among Windmills

I stepped into the future last week. I walked around in a wind farm. The Palm Springs Windmills are located in the San Gorgonio Pass between two of the San Bernadino Mountains.

Wind farm in San Gorgonio Pass

The wind gets funneled through this pass. This is one of the largest and most productive windfarms in the US.

Silently swirling groups of various sizes.

The self-guided tour started with a film in a green trailor they called a building. The film described the evolution of the designs of the towers and blades. It also mentioned how Enron’s bankruptcy affected the business.

Giant tower, nacelle and blades

The best design so far is the round tower with three blades. The tips are pitchable and the motor turns the blades into the wind. The film showed a worker climbing inside the tower to the nacelle to service the generator and gears. Not for me!

Old inefficient designs of the past

Collaboration to achieve the most efficient form of wind energy is crucial. This involves various companies to promote the technology, federal and state investment in  subsidies and better battery storage of energy.

Driving tour between green painted rocks

There would be better photos but I got distracted by a toy windmill in the green building and a lizard running between artifacts.

I wanted one, but retrained myself.

FLOW

P.S. The windmills did not make noise and no birds were killed while I was there.

Mama’s Pansies

I find different ways to keep my parents close. Plants are part of that. I have been re-habing Daddy’s neglected blueberry patch.

Five years of pruning done in one season. Yikes.

My Mama loved pansies, so I planted some in pots near the entrance. I check on them as I enter and leave.

Mama’s pansies, Daddy’s bluebird flag.

I remembered Mama’s pansy gardens on Enwood as I trimmed and fed these just now.

Pinky pansies.

This is our second Mother’s Day without Mama. The first one was a painful blur.

Mama at Enwood

On this day from now on, I will do something that I would have done if my Mama were still here…like taking care of her pansies.

Remembering Mama

FLOWER

Art Portals in Palm Springs

A paintball pallette almost tripped me. I could have fallen into that trapdoor on the floor. That is when I knew this was a tricky museum.

A pearl pin bonnet tempted me to put it on,  but I saw those 31,863 pins and knew it was a Seer Bonnet to trap pathetic women desparate to wear pretty pearls and convert them. Vanity has its price.

Lovely pearls of pain.
Painfully pretty pioneering bonnet by Angela Ellsworth.

The tricky twin symmetry crisscross doorway tried to lure me to its middle by confusing me with its identical sides. I was wise to its ways and backed away.

Right is left is right

A melting tapestry by Faig Ahmed from Azerbaijan lured me close to the spot where I too could have been melted. I never knew museums could be so dangerous!

Too hot to hold
Melted mosaic mesmerizing art patrons.

There was a spaceship that tempted me to tilt forward and look inside. I could see to infinity and beyond. I straightened up and slowly backed away from the otherworldly display.

The Rhombicosadecahedron Spaceship

Next thing I knew I was back on the front steps of the Palm Springs Art Museum with my friends.  We could have ended up in some weird places, but we know art portals when we spy them. Whew!

FLOOOOOOW

Flamingo Pink

I was never a pink girl, but flamingo pink gets me. I must pause for that pink.

My family has several flamingo stories. One is about Daddy and the other about little Rose.

Daddy said if there were jobs in heaven, he wanted to help birds. He paused. We waited for him to say bluebirds, but instead he said he wanted to help the flamingos. Mr. Bluebird turns pink!

My son and I distinctly remember the Rose and Flamingo Pink story. We were out on our deck making a model of a flamingo out of trash for his first grade project. Four-year-old Rose wanted to be involved. I gave her all the paint squirt bottles and told her to mix up flamingo pink for our future bird on a paper plate. We turned our attention back to our big pop bottle body, paper towel roll neck and assorted trash for legs, beak, feathers and feet.

Faded after 30+ years

Rose was busy mixing paint unattended. I assumed a mess was being made. My son and I were bending the wire legs when Rose announced she was done.

Her brother and I looked over at Rose and the plate. It was full of the perfect Flamingo pink! No mess. No other colors just that pink with a hint of peach.

We were stunned. We looked at each other and then little Rose. The irony is she does not even like pink. I hope she will wear these socks I bought for her anyway.

Socks souvenir for Rose

So flamingos will always hold my attention and bring back memories of little Rose and my Bluebird Daddy.

Flamingo art made of BEADS.

The house in Palm Springs had a Flamingo Pink theme. So we now have another set of pink stories. Here are pics of the Palm Springs Pink.

Close up of beads. Amazing!
WOWZA
Too cute to use.
Our pink door
Pink private patio. Flamingo friends.
Pink and white chairs with lovely shadows.

FLOW loves Flamingos

Rescue from the Road

This plant in a crack kept me up one night. The next morning, I set out with a plastic spoon to find and rescue it.


It seem to be a metaphor for life’s struggles. It has struggled to survive in a terrible set of circumstances. Then one day a tire smashes it flat.

In need of rescue.


It was a terrible truism that I could remedy. So I did. This tiny Donkeytail Spurge will be pampered from now on.

I do what I can to bring justice to this world.

A Rotating Ride in the Sky

We took a trip up to the top of the San Jacinto mountain on the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway.

I loved that some windows were open to let in the breezes as we ascended to cooler temperatures. I appreciated that the tram innards slowly rotated, so everyone got to see the surrounding views without moving about. I wanted to hold on to my window, but it moved.

Photo by Palm Springs Aerial Tramway

The rotation and dips at the towers took some getting used to. I did not take photos during the ride. I was busy staying vertical.

The views from the top were spectacular.

Palm Springs Wind Farm

I was more relaxed on the trip down due to prior exerience. While my friends hiked down this trail and back up again my sis and I watched a short movie about the biodiversity of the mountain wildlife and the wind conditions between the two mountains, thus the wind farm.

Here they come!
FLOW

Stay tuned for Sunnylands. I am stoked.

FLOW on the move.

Red Yucca Blooms and Seedpods

I love the structure of the red yuccas.

A spiky sea urchin- like base with a slender stalk rising high above the plant body to offer its blooms to hummingbirds.

The real name is Hesperaloe parviflora. May be called Hummingbird Yucca or Red False Yucca. I have seen the term false yucca several times here.

Red Yucca blooms and pods

I was happy to see it will grow in Zones 5-11.  I would love to add a drought tolerant plant as I purge my needy plants in the future.

Rock mulch xeriscaping

There are many examples of xeriscaping here. It is necessary to have plants that are drought tolerant here in Palm Springs California.

Functional and lovely

FLOW  liking low water land-scaping

The Rhombicosidodecahedron

This amazing piece is near the entrance of the Palm Springs Art Museum. It was designed by Anthony James in 2020.

Rhombicosidodecahedron by Anthony James

The rhombicosidodecahedron is made of steel, specialized glass and LED lights.

My hypothesis is that the glass is one-way glass with mirrors on the inside surfaces. The reflected shapes inside repeat to infinity.

Mesmerizing!

The name was too hard for me to say, so I called it the Buckyball Mirror Ball.

FLOW

Bougainvillea Bracts

I have loved bougainvillea since one grew on my balcony in Santa Monica when I lived there as a child.

Bougainvillea

The true flowers are small and white. The colored bracts are what attracts the pollinators.

Flowers are tiny and white.


There is a bouganvilla spilling over the fence here. Its bracts perfectly match the deep pink theme color of the house’s door and decor.

Bract on a float


The match is too perfect to be coincidental. This is how design finds inspiration.

FLOWER among flowers and palms

Time Circles Take Their Time

I have been in a writer’s funk since I put away the book about the Pearson Women. There has been some guilt about it. Now that I am my own Mama Bear, I am better about doing what is best for me even when guilt is involved. I am working on getting strong again after my three hip replacements in two years. I am proud of the results so far.

On Sunday, my bookclub discussed Kristin Hannah’s book THE WOMEN. We had enlightening discussions about the many events involving the main character, a Vietnam surgical nurse, and her two best friends, her parents and several love interests. Reading this book involving a controversial war was an emotional rollercoaster, but we were all glad we had pushed through and read it.

At the end of our discussion, I mentioned what I call ‘time circles.’  There a few were examples of this phenomena in the book.

This got me thinking about a strange event that occurred while I was cleaning out my mom’s house on Enwood.

I noticed two books in the office trash can. I wondered why my sister had thrown them away.  There were stacks of books everwhere. Why these two?

When I asked her about it, she did not know anything about the books. We pulled them out of the waste basket. Neither of us recalled having ever seen these two old  books.

Of course I thought it was a sign from Daddy. I pulled them out of the trash and read them both. One was a book about Vietnam, the other was a book about marriage.

I was disappointed. They seemed like old- fashioned propaganda from the 1960’s. The mystery of those books has stuck with me. I had no clue what either had to do with me…

UNTIL TODAY

You will have to wait for the circle’s completion.  Sometimes you find the end of a circle and sometimes you find a beginning. I call the beginning sign a ‘ heads up.’ The two books I found two years ago were a ‘heads up’ for events happening now. WOW!

I am going on a trip. I may blog, but this circle must wait. It will need my full attention when I return. Rest assured that I will hitting this ‘time circle’ hard when I get back.

There it is. That researcher’s excitement that I have been missing. Hooray!

Thanks Daddy

FLOW

The Brightest Iris

This bearded iris is named BANANA FRAPPE’. It’s blooms glow in the afternoon sun.

Banana Frappe’

It is alone in a bed because it is a bully. That means it grows quickly and hogs all the space.

Bully Banana Frappe”

My slow-growers must be isolated from the aggressive bullies like Banana Frappe’.

FLOWER

Lovey Dovey Relocated

My dove nest got relocated due to poop and peskiness. Rose’s car was being pooped on and Mr. Flower did not enjoy the company of dive-bombing doves. He startled them leaving for work in the dark. No eggs were involved.

The nest was removed. The plastic sleds were put on top of the old wooden sled to discourage future nesting. I am not happy that my friends were made to feel unwelcome.

I was sitting in the carport lamenting my loss, when I spied a pile of sticks on a frame with hardware cloth attached to it in the front corner of the carport. It is a bit too close to Mr. Flower’s precious truck.

New nest

I climbed up on the trusty ladder again to get a better view. There was that familiar little eye looking back at me.

Up on a ladder again!

I hope Lovey Dovey can roost here unpestered.

Howdy Lovey Dovey

Fingers crossed,

FLOW

My Daddy’s Last Iris

This is the most beautiful bearded iris I have ever seen. It is also the only hybrid rescued from the vole attack at Enwood, my parents’ former home.

Let’s Dance bearded iris

I feel blessed that it survived being eaten, being moved and being transplanted. Its real name is ‘Let’s Dance’ but I will always think of it as Daddy’s Last Iris.

Daddy by the iris bed.
Let’s Dance

FLOWER

Nesting Doves

I was surprised by a young dove that was not surprised by me while I was home. I walked with in feet of it before seeing it. It stared at me like I was just another part of the landscape.

Young dove watching me pack my car.


The doves had been watching us from up in the carport trusses. They were habituated to people coming and going, so they were not startled by a person passing.


The nest sits on top of an old sled. I wanted this title to be Sledding Doves, but that would be too much of a stretch, even for me.

Messy nest hanging off the old sled.

I climbed Daddy’s sturdy ladder to take a peak at the nest. I was eye-to-eye with the dove when my head poked above the ceiling joists.

Howdy Dovey

The nest was a messy pile of sticks. Just enough form to keep the eggs from rolling away. I read that doves take turns parenting their young, so I do not know which parent was on the sticks.

Our new neighbor.

I am happy when wildlife settles down around my home. These doves were a sweet surprise.

FLOW

The Many Kinds of Loss

I have been wandering and pondering this morning. It is a day that needs balancing.

My mama died on the morning of April 12, 2025. She has been gone a whole year. One Thanksgiving, one Christmas, one birthday and one Easter. I am planting a pink garden on the mountain in her memory.

I am home now. The site of more loss. Life goes on whether you are paying attention or not. There are things lost whether you are paying attention or not. Many things disappear while you are not looking.

My garden has missed me. My house has missed me. I am okay with that. I do not have the strength nor the stamina to stay here. I must not lose myself.

I toured my gardens with my camera this morning. I took only lovely photos to share, except for one.

This scene you will recognize. These two statues are named Lily and Moss. I have written stories about them. Today, I will let a photo tell the story.

There are many kinds of loss. I miss my well mama, but not the sick suffering one. Her loss was gradual. We lost bits of her long before April 12. Little steps that sometimes went unnoticed. That’s how loss works. It is sneaky.

Are you paying attention?

FLOW

My Needy Garden

I came home for a few days. I have hauled most of my small plants out of my workshop. I cannot budge the big ones. Mr. Flower will have to assist.

I hate to admit that my heart no longer loves them like it used to. I feel their need pulling me down. Thank goodness I have given about 2/3 of my collection away.

I did some weeding and trimming today. I also took photos of my garden. Here are a few.

This huge azalea must be protected by fence. Any sprout that sticks out is eaten twig and all my the herd of fifteen deer.

Little Much bearded iris

This gentle iris was surrounded and strangled by some bullies, especially pink Persian Berry. It has thrived on this bank in isolation.

Rose and I spotted a visitor as we sat in the swing. Our friend the fox trotted across the yard and headed up into the woods. I was thrilled to see it looking so healthy.

Our neighbor the fox.

My iris bed has two types blooming now. Persian Berry and Thunder Echo.

Persian Berry (back) and Thunder Echo iris

I am glad to be home, but next time I come, I will have my assistant joining me. Seeing so much to do and not being able to do it was frustrating.

FLOW and the fox

The Tree in the Dale

I have always admired trees. Their shape and their shade are appreciated. There are some trees that I especially love. I remember these as important landmarks. I look for these old friends when I return to those places.

I went back to the picnic spot by the mountain stream yesterday. I took a bag of root chips, water and my camera. I meant to bring a book, but it was left in the kitchen. I go to this place to read. There is spotty phone service and no internet here, so it keeps me form scrolling the horrific events of war and politics. I make myself take breaks between calls and letter writing and posting and sharing…

I wandered around with my memories along the banks of the streams. There have been changes. I will share that later. I was looking for things that have not changed. I need some mooring right now. What could be more steadying than an old, familiar tree?

This was one of the sights I came for…The Tree in the Dale.

It stands in the middle of lovely sloping pastures. From the picnic site, only its crown is visible. It peeks over the hills. Seeing just its top was a comfort. I was not up for a hike to its shade.

I just wanted to put my eyes on this tree that I have loved through time. I keep returning to places of the past. Searching for echoes. Hoping for old threads to attach myself to.

A tree is pretty steady mooring for that.

I am grateful for the tree in the dale.

FLOW

Familiar Faces from Home

I really needed a visit from my flowers this morning. Mr. Flower knew this. On his one day off, he took the time to tour our yard and photograph my flowers.


I have kept his shadows in the photos to remind me who took these pictures.  This is a very sad fifth anniversary for our family. Actually it was worst day of our lives, especially for him and his mom and sis.  

On this day he has chosen to send me flowers.That’s what love looks like. The real kind. The long game.


Thank you so much hubby. Enjoy your day at the farm. Hug your sister. Carry on.

Here he is photographing our thirty-six-year-old azaleas. I was young then. I could not decide on a color, so I bought one of each. My first horticultural experiment at the lake.

Mr. Flower’s shadow

Grateful

Love FLOWER

A Walk at Flat Top

I tried another new trail today. I am picking flat places to walk by myself. Any time I hike on uneven terrain or wander off the trail, some stumbling starts. I did not take my walking stick today, so I had to be extra careful.

Brackets and moss on a dead tree.

Today’s walk was on one of the roads around the Flat Top Manor, which is also known as the Moses Cone Estate. The mansion is not open yet, but you can park and walk the grounds.

Moses Cone Estate

I am happy to report that I wobbled but did not fall down today. I also got some pictures of lovely bracket fungi. I found colonies on several dead trees. Brackets are identified by color, top texture and pores.

I did not risk climbing up or down banks to identify these. We will appreciate them from afar.

Large bracket

I also spotted a single Bloodroot bloom.

Bloodroot flower

Finding all this and not falling down was a win:win!

FLOWER

The Two Books in the Trash: Part 2

This post is a follow-up to an earlier post. THE LINK IS BELOW.

I am sorry for the delay caused by throwing the books away.
I had to order them on the internet because they were printed over sixty years ago.

Time Circles Take Their Time

Copies had to be ordered.

In this post I will discuss again my original reaction. A later post will be about my thoughts now after several years of wondering what the possible meaning of this sign could be? Was it from my mom or my dad? How did these two books get into that room? Landing in a wicker trashcan made them visible from the outside or they may never have been noticed. What a coincidence!

The answers are always in the details. Here I will describe each book and my initial reaction to it.

Front and back of the Kenneth J. Foreman
book about marriage vows.

I do wish I had the book jacket of the original book from the Enwood house, if there was one. This one is so much more interesting. This is from the third printing in 1953. The first printing was in 1950.

My initial reaction to this book was not pleasant. This book was a wedding gift from some friends of my maternal grandparents to my parents. The view of marriage in the 1950’s was very different from my views in 2023. I was not happy to have to revisit these old views of matrimony. I felt like I was being chastised and corrected from the grave. I was not sure if I wanted to be married at all at that point. I certainly was not about to backtrack to an antiquated version of marriage. This supposed sign actually made me furious.

Vietnam Era book by Thomas A. Dooley M.D.

The second book was also a propaganda powder keg. I was too young to fully understand Vietnam as the war unfolded and damaged the lives of thousands of people. I did understand tragedy and death. The books by and about Thomas A. Dooley tried to add a positive spin to the war story.

The Dooley story was carefully crafted to show how good Americans were and how evil the enemy was. The stories were fabricated or atleast slanted. Later information exposed that Dooley was actually a spy not just a selfless humanitarian. He got enemy information by locating his clinics in strategic locations. His crew did treat the ailments of locals and provide much needed nutrition packages. Every story has two sides. This one is tricky.

So now you know the names of the Two Books in the Trash.

I will follow this with my take on the meanings now. I have decided to treat each separately even though they ended up in the same trashcan. Stay tuned.

Be patient.

Remember, Time Circles Take Their Time.

FLOW

Remnants of Ravaging

I knew where Smoky Mountain Autumn was supposed to be, but there were no green shoots above ground. I dug a hole over a foot wide and six inches deep to finally find three shrivelled tubers.
One of my favorite daylilies had been reduced to this. It must have been a deer favorite, too.

Pitiful remnants of Smoky Mountain Autumn

I consider this another in a long line of metaphors for my life. I have thought of my dear friend Sandra many times this week. We had long discussions about adapting to change after her husband died. We could not foresee that her first year of widowhood would be her last year of life. We who loved them both would have to adapt again.

I am not one to immediately embrace change, but I am a realist. Change is sometimes forced. Move or lose what is left is the lesson.

Smoky Mountain Autumn has a chance to survive now that it has been relocated and protected. One of its other daylily neighbors totally disappeared. That fate would have been repeated by more every year until most were obliterated.

I made the right choice. With every choice comes some loss. It is a matter of deciding what one is willing to lose in order to maintain or gain something else.

Someday, if we’re are careful and lucky. We will see blooms again on this remnant of a life. That restoration will be the reward.

Smoky Mountain Autumn

FLOWER