After the initial burst of color of early flowering bulbs,
 the blooming has slowed considerably!
 It won't be long until we enjoy the sight and fragrance of these--and more.
 Meanwhile, I enjoy an assortment of blue ornaments
 decorating a bush that we trim to look tree-like.
It stands just off our small patio.
 Gathered from thrift stores and garage sales,
they lend interest to the eager, wandering eye.


 Same long, narrow bed as in the last post (after weeding)
 now smartly edged - thanks to my husband's
patient & persistent attention.
 What a difference!
 Below, a repaired whirligig positioned for action!

After the Rain

 This long, narrow bed,
 freshly weeded,
 after the rain....

 This is more like it--

Time Flies

 A year ago, he was undergoing quadruple bypass surgery!
This week, he's arranging our assortment of yard furniture and "art"!
(Also edging flowerbeds and power-washing the house....)
What a difference a year makes!

Don't Judge Me

 Don't judge me too harshly...
 with little else showing their colors, 
I'm thankful for the sweet delicate lavenders of the wild violets
growing by invitation in a few of my beds.
 Yes, I know their greedy habits.
Still I'm a sucker for their early and flagrant beauty.


By Alice Moore Dunbar-Nelson
I had not thought of violets late,
The wild, shy kind that spring beneath your feet
In wistful April days, when lovers mate
And wander through the fields in raptures sweet.
The thought of violets meant florists' shops,
And bows and pins, and perfumed papers fine;
And garish lights, and mincing little fops
And cabarets and soaps, and deadening wines.
So far from sweet real things my thoughts had strayed,
I had forgot wide fields; and clear brown streams;
The perfect loveliness that God has made,—
Wild violets shy and Heaven-mounting dreams.
And now—unwittingly, you've made me dream
Of violets, and my soul's forgotten gleam.