I am so glad that I planted this little shrub, Compact Red Hypericum, by the walkway.
It seems to change every day. You may know it as a type of St. John’s Wort.
At first, I loved how the dew sat softly on its fuzzy leaves.
Then I saw the rain drops glisten on them like diamonds.
Next came the charming yellow flowers that remind me of strawberry blooms.
Finally, this morning, its first bright red berries formed.
Along with the dew and the rain drops and the flowers.
What a lovely little plant to greet our visitors as they enter our home.
There is always work going on in the garden.
Mr. Frog is busy guarding his water lily.
Ms. Fritillary Butterfly is inspecting the inside of one of her flowers.
Barley is checking the growth of weeds in the bunny yard.
Ms. Goldenrod Spider is trying to blend in on some butterfly weed blooms.
One of the herons is looking for breakfast.
Charlotte is searching for a new dig site.
Chip is digging in my little pot of… Chip stop that. Chip?
Now, I need to clean up a mess.
Always busy in the garden.
I thought that God stayed in my garden. That’s where I pray. He’s always there.
I think of all my flying friends as angels, because they have wings and are beautiful.
But I was wrong.
I was praying in the Emergency Room of a hospital. God was there. The angels wore scrubs and police uniforms. No wings.
I prayed to give some of my peace, health and sanity to a shrieking, crying man.
I prayed to give me some of a crying, little boy’s pain.
I prayed for a calm doctor being yelled at by an irate, scared, in-pain woman.
I prayed for the screaming woman, too.
God was in that chaos every bit as much as he is in my beautiful, peaceful garden.
I just needed to look for him.
He is everywhere.
You know you don’t have enough to do, when you spend the morning
sneaking up on a frog.
He is skittish and savvy. I think he is smarter than I am.
See him looking my way? Cheeky!
Every year when the poppies pop, I walk through them in awe.
How could they be this red? …this beautiful? …this perfectly made?
I hope I never lose the feeling I get when looking into a poppy bloom.
They are marvelous. They are spectacular.
How can a tiny black speck grow into such magnificence?
Let me add the lesson the poppies have taught me.
I have planted them various places in my gardens over the years,
but they thrive in a place that I would prefer that they not grow.
They love the edge of our vegetable garden.
Mr. Flower has to plow around them. We have to plant around them.
We let them stay here because we love them so much.
My saying for me has been “Grow where you are planted”.
Now that I have young adult children, my saying for them is,
“Plant yourself where you can grow”.
The poppies taught me this.
They thrive and bloom best where they plant themselves,
NOT where Mama Flower sowed their seeds.
POP goes the FLOWER!
I decided that I needed to remake my plant markers for all my Hostas now that they are up.
First I went out to find each hosta on my list and record its location.
This involved pulling up the old markers made of plastic knives (or pieces of knives) with faded writing.
Sometimes I could only decipher a few letters. I compared this to my list and identified most of them.
Then I made the new markers using plastic chopsticks.
I wrote each Hosta’s names on a chopstick with a marker,
then carved the name in with a Dremel tool.
Then I rewrote the name again to make it easier to read.
I went back outside to place each new marker around the base of the designated Hosta.
Have you been counting trips outside? I have been soaking wet three times so far.
Some folks have the sense to come in out of the rain, some don’t.
At least I hung my laundry inside.
You remember that I wondered whether the secrets whispered between these two were going to involve them digging a hole or hiding from me. They did both!
Charlotte is the main digger and bulldozer. It is amazing to watch her push dirt away from the hole.
Barley did some assisting.
Later, I checked on them. I could not find Charlotte anywhere. Only Barley. He kept peering down into the hole. I was almost frantic until I realized that, Charlotte was deep down inside the hole.
When she finally emerged. A shovel blade was used to cover the opening until the hole could be filled. Those tricky rabbits!
Even as a little sprout, they know they should grow tomatoes.
There is no wondering and pondering.
Only the intent to grow, bloom and produce TOMATOES.
There is no questioning of flower color, shape or size.
They do not debate adding an eggplant for color, or an onion for flavor.
They only know to grow TOMATOES.
They don’t beseech the sky with no reply, “What should I be?”.
They do not doubt their tomato-ness.
There is no debate on their purpose in life.
They just do their thing, which is growing TOMATOES.
I envy their single-minded confidence.
My favorite thing about Mondays is the meme, Monday in a Vase, at the blog Rambling in the Garden.
Every week gets started with vases of beautiful flowers from all over the globe.
I have only contributed to this blog meme once, with a tiny vase pin.
Yes, I am a post parasite. Forgive me, Cathy.
To make up for it, I am sharing eleven vases of my flowers, done yesterday,
for my in-laws’ 60th Anniversary celebration.
I never arrange flowers, so this was a stretch for me.
Most of the vintage vases were found at “treasure shops” in the area.
The vases sat on guest tables in clouds of pink or peach tulle.
My sister-in-law, Dana, made everything perfect. If she goes pro, you better get on her waiting list.
Foxglove, asparagus stalk, fairy lily, Persian Berry iris buds, Epimedium leaves and White Astilbe