Yes. I'm what you might call "sub-lingual" in two languages (besides English, that is). A combination of French lessons in grade school & Spanish in college (with a little Latin thrown in) left me ... Well ... my Spanish teacher was tremendously amused. He said that since I had mastered the Spanish words and nailed the conjugation (in French) I'd earned an 'A' in the class. Would you call that Sprench or Franish?
UPDATE from last week:
My Sweety bought a new garden basket for me. The old one was just too small to carry my daily haul!
Here's the basket . . .
. . . and here's what's in it today.
UPDATE #2: Oh! The kumquat has been covered in bees savoring its tiny white flowers. That bodes well for a bountiful harvest this fall.
UPDATE #3: We had a small crisis this week with our crepe myrtle, which was mature when we moved in over twenty years ago. Full bloom coupled with a rare spring rain bowed some of the branches dangerously. It was very strange looking as the canopy was completely open in the center. I had to do some judicious pruning to save one of the branches. I will have to do a bit more later on, and I really don't want to trim this beautiful tree any more than I absolutely have to.
My heart shall be thy garden. Come, my own,
Into thy garden; thine be happy hours
Among my fairest thoughts, my tallest flowers,
From root to crowning petal thine alone.
Up to the sky enclosed, with all its showers.
But ah, the birds, the birds! Who shall build bowers
To keep these thine? O friend, the birds have flown.
To follow the sweet season, or, new-comers,
Sing one song only from our alder-trees,
Flit to the silent world and other summers,
With wings that dip beyond the silver seas.
This is the view of one of my beds from the house. The community mail box is just beyond the fence and you can see the sidewalk. There used to be an ugly three foot high fence across the front of our property, but we got rid of it. I prefer an open, friendly, neighborly front yard.
This was originally a lavender bed with three huge, beautiful 'jagged' lavender bushes, but a mishap with the neighbor's sprinkler system killed them. Both the the bees and I went into mourning - but life goes on.
You'll notice the stump in the back of the picture. It is a remnant of the old shade trees and will soon be a bird bath.
Here is the view of that same bed from the street. The small flowers at the front were just planted so they haven't had a chance to fill in.
Look! You can see our baby navel orange tree in the background.
The two huge bushes are rust colored mums. When I planted them last fall they were just scrawny little plants. And since I'd always thought chrysanthemums to be fall bloomers, I was thoroughly surprised to find them blooming this spring. When in full bloom they will (hopefully) be two rust colored mounds about three feet across.
I tucked two little white mums at the outside edge of the arc, sale table finds. If they survive, they'll be quite lovely next year. Along the sidewalk I just planted two colors of African daisies. They'll eventually fill in and cover all the bare spaces.
I started tucking daffodil bulbs into my beds last year, and spring was beautiful. I plan to tuck a few more in this bed this fall. I wish I had pictures to show you, but I lost years worth of pictures with a hard drive crash this year.
At the heart of this little bed is what I've always referred to as a parking lot iris, a fortnight lily (not even close), also a young plant.
Front and center is a pack of Sedum, tucked into an old truck wheel (my husband's contribution).
My garden nurtures me, and if I'm really being honest, at times it is what keeps me moving. As many of you can attest, living with chronic pain can take a tole, and there are low times. But when I walk out into my garden it embraces me. A study out of The Netherlands even says that gardening is an excellent way of fighting stress and improving mental health.
I follow the cycle of the lady bugs, watch the antics of the hummingbirds and the squirrels, and observe the growth of the tiny praying mantis into the lion of my garden. Happy worms and industrious spiders do their jobs and an increasing number of birds serenade from their stages in the trees. Hard working bees, the backbone of any successful garden, go about their business, signaling their approval by the flowers and fruit left in their wake.
Tea and poetry in my garden rocker are a lovely reward for the efforts I make, large or small, successful or not. Peace, as any gardener can attest, is to be found in the garden.