Letter to my Sweetie

Honey,

Before you go look at what I did in the garden please try to remember that I'm not like everyone else. And just because something has never been done before doesn't mean it has no merit. It only means that no one has ever been clever enough to try it before. So just because you never thought of planting a pumpkin patch in clay pots next to the porch so they'll climb up and hide the ugliness beneath/behind does not mean it can't be done. Yet. And just because you never tried to plant the potatoes in hay alongside the front of the garden to save space doesn't mean it's not a good idea. It may end up being another way not to do something but only time will tell. So let me try my little crazy experiments. After all, you're at least as crazy as I am. As evidence I submit our marriage license.

Also, I have a message from the compost pile. You know, the one that's been growing all winter when I dump the bunny poo on it? It says it has two words for you: gold mine. Now who's dissing the bunny poo, baby? Huh? Huh? I could sell this stuff. If I was as rich in money as I am in compost I'd be a billionaire.

So try to remember all that before you go have a look-see at the garden. My thumb may be black and yours may be green but let's try to be colorblind for awhile this summer, OK?

Sincerely,
The Love of Your Life
xoxo

Long Time Gone

Smelling this . . .

Magnolia. There is a difference between how it smells as the morning sun hits it and the fragrance it gives off in the warm night air. The morning notes sneak up on you, like a quiet song. In the evening they surround you like a symphony, drawing you right up to the tree to glory in them.

Blooming right next to it is this . . .

Forsythia. Together they are like the sun and the moon.

Welcome back, Spring. You've been a long time gone.