The garden has been the most floriferous this spring and now summer.
It does well in the company of teacups and books.
Foxglove magic and lavender rose petals abound.
Dappled sunlight...
Sherbet buttercups of Lady of Shalott.
Baskets of rose petals, drying to paper art perfection.
Pink Gene Boerners, happy as can be, holding on through hottest sun if needed.
Floribunda charms.
Books and delicate specimens.
Tales in the center of a tea rose.
And then the bees.
A swarm of them, for real and truly.
I'm convinced they attempted to do a living sculpture of Matty's head.
Just stopping for a day to rest their queen, on a journey to a new home.
A rest in my garden, my heart was bursting.
Cotton candy garden treats...
More than my whole heart could behold.
I think I heard them say thank you.
Thank you for loving us, and I do.
Deeply - I think they know it, don't you?
That must be the reason for the reward so grand.
How could I deserve all these buckets of petals, I do not know.
For the garden protects me, and I should be thanking it.
It's truly where I spend my days.
I do all my own gardening, but one day some men came in to help me trim tall trees early in spring, and they wanted to chop down my thistle.
I tied ribbons on it and wrote signs.
But why, they asked, why...?
I could not understand the question...
Could you?
Milk thistle <3
One of my very favorites.
Especially when it turns up unexpectedly as such.
All the while bees tuck deep inside layers of roses, in search of that delicious nectar.
Imagine being able to fly right into the center of a rose?
What must it bee (be) like in there?
If one were to be bee size?
Could you even imagine it?
And...
I wonder what the garden looks like to him...
My angel who is still with us.
Hanging on.
Doing okay.
I wonder if he loves the garden as much as I?
Imagine the sounds of bees and butterfly wings he hears?
And so, again, bewitched by the splendors of the garden is where we are.
There are pumpkins growing now, and the pumpkin vines have so many tales to tell me.
I can hardly write them down or keep up.
But I do try.
There are fires burning in the mountains around us since June 5th.
Beautiful and tragic all at once.
The animals are safe, they had a chance to run away, but it grows.
Homes and people are safe still.
We watch it from the garden.
Knowing that fire is from mother nature, as lightning caused it.
Knowing there is a rhyme and reason for everything.
There is so very much going out there, but I mend my soul in the garden.
With Squash tendrils for thread and rose thorns for needles.
My heart is safe in my garden, surrounded by tomatoes and radish flowers.
I still marvel at seeds pushing up through the earth all these years later.
I go to bed with hope and jump up with an eagerness to see what is going on out there.
The garden makes me feel content, even through the toughest time.
It has always been there for me.
I play my piano, pick flowers, draw, hug the boys.
I bake pies and cakes and cookies.
I text with all my friends, and talk to some.
I am staying very busy, how about you?
I'm also a bit of a Cinderella.
Mopping floors and such :-)
I watched Poldark, I loved it, and now it is over...
What should I watch next?
We are building some huge cedar planters.
I can't wait to plant them this week.
I have a few lovely books on my night table.
How are you out there friends?
Sending you lots of love from my neck of the woods.
Time really gets away from me so quickly.
I remember being able to come here so often before, and now my days melt away so quickly.
I hardly have time for anything it seems.
Do you find your days rushing by?
Ah well...
I could chatter chatter all day long if you let me.
Today I chatted my dad's ear off so much he said, okay well I have to leave you so I can go eat my waffles.
Funny funny.
Be well dear you.
Lots of Love,
Vanessa
