Tag Archives: flowers


The sunshine diner

As usual, our garden is looking something of a sunflower farm . . .


It’s not necessarily on purpose, mind. Sure, we planted a few seeds. As usual, those seeds sprouted spindly and they’ve yet to bloom. No, the flowers that have moved in and made themselves at home, seemed to do so on their own accord.

Thankfully, they’re all on the smallish side (not a fan of blooms the size of your head). So far, they’re pretty straight forward; yellow with yellow centers, yellow with brown centers. You know, the usual suspects . . .


Every once in awhile we’ll get a splash of red . . .


Or a dose of crimson – which, of course, makes us giddy . . .

Should you come by for a visit, however, do not be aghast when you see something like this . . .


Or this . . .


Or even this . . .


Yes, we know the rules of deadheading; but we also know this fellow, along with his family and friends . . .

Of course, once you serve food, you must also offer a cool beverage. And heaven forbid you have a busy week and let your service slip a bit. They’re a vocal crowd. If they go in to wet their whistle and find the establishment not up to par, they will let you know; you might even get a look or two . . .

It’s not easy running a popular diner.


Just lovely

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Yesterday was altogether lovely.

I made sixteen May Day deliveries; received six May Day ‘baskets; ‘ inherited three May Day flowers that were much too pitiful to give, once all the unfortunate leaves were trimmed.

Even the weather took part in the festivities. The sun danced amid a backdrop of blue, the birds sang.

I’m telling you, altogether lovely.

Not to rub it in or anything, but I’ve got today off, as well. I intend to rid myself of weeds and wayward grasses lurking about–I cannot abide. I intend to mark off some spring cleaning. You know, fun things like that.

Of course, I’m also hoping to christen the patio with a few potted plants, a good book, and a libation or two.

Needless to say, I wish you loveliness all your own in the coming days. Wherever you roam, whatever you do, I hope it’s the perfect start to the month of May . . .

A bright, happy weekend to you!


Oh, happy day!

I hope you, like I, can boast an altogether lovely Easter.

Sure, there were a few setbacks. I’d been planning to wear a new dress—plum, with ivory polka dots. But with the extra poundage picked up during the winter months . . . well, let’s just say I love me a good Easter egg, but prefer not to look like one.

A rather plain, bright blue dress had to do.

Then, due church and the baking of the ham, we were late in serving lunch. Meal times for the aged are not to be trifled with: my grandmother could not abide. Holiday or no, we were on ‘the list’ there for a bit.

But other than that, the weekend was glorious. My mom and I even managed to sneak in our traditional photo trek to a park. Our mission: spy a little spring.

Seems these snapshots serve a good reminder of why it’s worth the effort to do what we can for this planet we call home. We don’t have to be crazy about it, mind; but with the beauty God bestows, seems one way to say ‘thanks,’ is to be good stewards, and at least try to do our part . . .


A little something

For the most part, my weekend filled to overflowing with the mundane.

After the goings-on of last week, mundane proved quite lovely, indeed.

In betwixt projects and errands, my mom and I took my grandma on a little outing. We ordered flavored Coca-Colas, to go—chocolate, green apple, and cherry {the cherry that sits at the bottom, soaking up all the carbonated goodness, is the very best part!}.

We went to a park. We drove downtown. I pulled off to the side every now and again, parked, and ran down the sidewalk to snap a picture or two. I meandered back to the car, my grandma threw up the peace sign through the sunroof, and we laughed.

You see, sometimes it’s under a canopy of an overcast sky, that colors truly learn to dance. Sometimes it’s in holding your breath, that you learn to appreciate a deep, untroubled sigh. And sometimes it’s in a big expanse of darkness that you see just how beautiful and precious the little things can be . . .






Frivolity tinged with gratitude

{old candle jars make some of the best vases}

Oh, how I love the blooms of a peony. Cut on Monday and promptly brought indoors, these have graced our kitchen counter for the past five days. They’ve aged quite well, wouldn’t you agree?

Many a story surrounds the peony. One legend has it, Asclepius (the Greek god of healing medicine and healing) grew jealous of his pupil, Paeon. Zeus, taking pity on the poor mortal, saved him from the the wrath of Asclephius by turning Paeon into a peony. Even today, the bark, roots, seeds, and flowers of the peony continue the healing practices of Paeon–healing the body through traditional Eastern medicine and healing the soul by adding a splash of color to the bareness of winter.

In our garden, they’re the first of the perennials to bloom. And they always seem to do so quite suddenly, as if bounding from the soil–party hats askew, noise makers in hand, confetti falling from the bluest of skies–to announce colorful days ahead. They do say mischievous nymphs hide in its petals. Perhaps that’s why ants love them so–they don’t want to miss out on the party.

Then, just like that, the flowers are gone and the plant sits content as a backdrop to surrounding blooms.

No wonder the peony symbolizes good fortune, a happy life.

So whether or not you’re heading into a holiday weekend, a peony to you. May you have the good fortune to wake up each morning healthy and in good spirits, surrounded by those you love, in a land that is free–with just enough wealth to cover everything you need, plus a little extra to share. May you recognize the good fortune to have those who willing to give their lives, so you might enjoy such luxuries. May you be thankful for the good fortune to have had those in your life who have gone before–even if you find the time together much too brief. May you test your life against the touchstone of happiness, and find it happy, indeed.

A bright Memorial Day weekend to you, my friends!