Every year, Don
(heretofore referred to as My Carpenter), tries to get me to agree to automatic
sprinklers in the beds, or at least drip hoses, and every year I assure him I
don't need the help. He thinks I'm being a control freak because our well is a
low-producer and July and August are such water guzzlers. He says I'm worried
something might leak or forget to turn itself off, thus wasting precious drops.
While I am pretty water-conservative (especially in the hot, dry
months), I actually like dragging the hose over, under, and
around things in the garden. It keeps me up-close-and-personal with each plant. I notice things...I pull a weed here, pluck a
few dead-heads there, question whether that "flower" might really be a
weed run-amok, and make a mental note on what needs moving this fall. But all
that watering can take at least an hour each day, so I really do appreciate
Mother Nature's help on days like this. Besides, the gardens and lawn always
look so refreshed and lovely after a summer thunderstorm!
This post's picture is of the bouquet I picked from the gardens yesterday morning. I flitted from
bed-to-bed, a large, middle-aged butterfly, choosing the flowers that I knew
would make Hilda (92) and Charlotte
(99) ooh and aah when they saw them. There's an assortment of daisies, purple
phlox, day lilies, yarrow and liatris in there.
The weather has to be just right for my ladies to want to be in the garden with me, so they love when I bring flowers in the house for them. Both were avid gardeners in their younger days...Charlotte had dozens of rose bushes that she tended to faithfully, and Hilda, a farmer's wife, had a large garden every year that she canned-up to feed her family through the winter, as well as flower beds to feed her soul.
My flowers, in fact all my garden beds, have such power over me! In church I really do try to keep my mind focused on the service, but it seems like every Sunday there's a reference to a garden, grapes, wheat...something that puts my head back in my yard, thinking about what's doing or needs doing. That's when I hope no one asks me what I thought of the homily or the readings, because I might not even remember them!
The weather has to be just right for my ladies to want to be in the garden with me, so they love when I bring flowers in the house for them. Both were avid gardeners in their younger days...Charlotte had dozens of rose bushes that she tended to faithfully, and Hilda, a farmer's wife, had a large garden every year that she canned-up to feed her family through the winter, as well as flower beds to feed her soul.
My flowers, in fact all my garden beds, have such power over me! In church I really do try to keep my mind focused on the service, but it seems like every Sunday there's a reference to a garden, grapes, wheat...something that puts my head back in my yard, thinking about what's doing or needs doing. That's when I hope no one asks me what I thought of the homily or the readings, because I might not even remember them!
I am moved today
by a quote I sign-off with on each regular email. It's by Robert Louis
Stevenson and speaks so clearly to me about appreciating the simple things:
The best things
in life are nearest: Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers
at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you.
Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life's plain, common work as it comes,
certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in
life.
Creating a bouquet of flowers picked from my garden felt like one of the sweetest things in life. What does it for you?
Remember to take time for the simple things!
Remember to take time for the simple things!
Peace,
Chris
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