Nature will help me.
I am calm and focused under the sky.
I am happy with my little friends.
The silence is soothing. The sounds are music.
My heart blooms with the flowers and flies with the birds.
Nature will heal me.
It was here before me and will remain when I am gone.
I am a part of something so much bigger.
I am a tiny part. In my place. Being me.
Where I belong in the universe.
It knows me because I know it.
Jean May has gone crazy again.
How can she do what she does?
She’s pushing a million pink petals among her green leaves.
Every year I say she cannot burst out better.
Then she goes and does it again.
Jean May is one crazy Camellia sasanqua!
I am planting blue flowers for the spring in memory of my daddy.
I have faith in the future despite the moody climate.
There will be beautiful blue to greet me when this winter ends.
I look forward to a new beginning. My daddy’s love will be there.
I have put these Muscari azureum bulbs in a protective basket (suet feeder).
Some bulbs seem to disappear here. I also surround bulbs with lava rocks for protection.
Notice the satellite cable encircled with rods and an orange chopstick.
Nothing is safe from my shovel. I mark bulbs with swizzle sticks the color of the future flowers.
Looking forward to a beautiful spring.
Keep the faith.
I am missing several addresses from my Luffa acutangula seeds request list.
John Presteridge? Kevin Kellher? Alley the Homeschooler?
Curtis Wilkinson. Did you vines ever flower? Do you need seeds?
Susan Evans, did your old seeds germinate or should I send more?
Nadine Brissey, how did your vines do?
If you want to privately share address, send to email@example.com.
I will be posting on turning these giant pods into sponges later. Stay tuned.
There was some mysterious activity out on the river last weekend.
A group of boats gathered. All boats had the letters JS and a number on the side.
They seemed to be playing duck-duck-goose in the water.
One or two would take turns zooming around the group.
This went on for quite some time.
During the game, I was able to do laundry, write a blog on bricks and fix tuna salad.
It was a noisy game. I was glad when it ended and they all headed south.
Witnessing another activity that makes me feel old and persnickety.
Say it isn’t so!
I am not sure who is in charge of this charming town, but someone has an eye.
This place has color as well as class.
The first colorful house that caught my eye was blue.
I learned later its name is The Goodwill House after the coalmine owner that had it built.
The third floor has a ballroom.
The Collins House is a lovely mix of butter and olive.
The tallest peak in town is a soothing green. This belongs to the Cooper House.
It has a lovely gated entrance.
Its lawn has two matching fish ponds with frog fountains.
I stuck my camera through a hedge for this shot.
There was even a purple house!
Now that’s my kind of town!
Later we found a brochure for a tour.
If you want to visit beautiful Bramwell, here is the contact information.
I did not just spy a row of delightful dahlias in Harold Brown’s garden.
There was also a bit of masonry work in progress.
As you may remember, I spent five years as a concrete artist of Maiden Stone Garden Art.
I was fascinated by the projects in progress.
Pavers from some recent roadwork were being recycled in the garden.
There was also a new stone bridge over a Koi pond.
I hated to stop the progress by pestering the artist, but he did pose for a photo.
I do love interesting hardscape in the landscape.
The reason for our traveling to West Virginia was to ride the trails.
This is a new hobby taken up by Mr. Flower.
We stayed in Trailhead Resort just for riders in Bluefield, Virginia.
This was a new experience for the Flower.
Each cabin or campsite had a large toy parked out front.
Some trails were treacherous but most were pleasant.
We did turn around twice because someone who will not be named here
broke out into maniacal laughter and requested to leave the vehicle.
Most of the trails were well maintained and lovely.
We stopped to look at vegetation and scenery.
I prefer slow rides with many stops. Mr. Flower prefers fast and furious.
I suspect my son and/or daughter will replace me on the next excursion.
It’s an amazing life when you go to West Virginia to trail ride
and end up in a mansion listening to a famous pianist serenade on a Steinway.
It’s all because of Thomas Edison, the dahlia that is.
We were strolling around the charming town of Bramwell, West Virginia
after enjoying a milkshake at the Corner Cafe’
when I spied my friend Thomas Edison over a fence.
Of course I had no choice but to intrude into the lovely garden to speak with the owner.
He turned out to be the world renowned pianist, Harold Brown.
After introducing me to his dahlias ( later post), he invited us in for a quick concert
He gifted us a signed CD which we listened to on our ride home.
The magic is back.
Thanks to Harold Brown, Thomas Edison and Mr. Flower.
Stay tuned folks. There is much more to come!