May showers

 

It's raining, again seems to be May's theme.  These snapshots are in between the rains, outside and during them inside.  They say April Showers bring May flowers.  So what do May showers bring? Hopefully June vegetables.  The tomatoes, zucchini, butternut (must remember to remove pots from on top of them), cukes and potatoes all seem happy.  I do believe that when the sun finally makes an appearance, everything is going to explode.  The Herbs are all happy too.  

I have been going outside as much as possible to check on the gardens and the chickens (and chicks) in between storms.  There is mud, a lot of it.  Not to worry though, because soon it will be HOT and the wet cush of the spring will only be a memory.  

Inside during the storms I have found a lot of time to spend cleaning, rearranging and stripping beds (tackling laundry piles).  How about you? How are you spending these last few days of the month? How's your weather?  

the fourth spring

 

About four years ago, right around this time, I was at Kroger.

Out front, they had one of those seasonal plant displays — you know the kind, right alongside the overpriced ceramic pumpkins in the fall or all the beachy trinkets they roll out every summer.

Usually I walk right by that stuff.

The plants weren’t anything special.

But tucked in there, almost hidden, was a plastic bag with a small rose inside — labeled John Davis Climbing Rose.

I knew that rose. She’s a beauty.

I told myself no. I was there for groceries, not plants.

Got what I needed, went home, started putting everything away…

and I couldn’t stop thinking about that rose.

It was one of those moments where your gut doesn’t whisper — it shouts.

I googled the rose, read everything I could, and paced the backyard looking for a spot she might like.

I grabbed my keys and drove straight back.

And there she was, still waiting — one tiny green tendril poking out of that plastic bag.

This time, I didn’t hesitate.

I wasn’t there for groceries anymore.

I was there for her.

The advice said: don’t prune for the first three years.

Let her sprawl, climb, get wild.

I loved that idea — a little bit of feral tucked into the garden.

The first couple of years, she was shy.

The third year, she bloomed like she meant it.

And this spring, in year four, it was finally time to shape her a little — and wow, did she ever respond.

Now she’s nestled between the lilacs and the comfrey — full, wild, blooming like she’s always belonged here.

A small moment of listening, a few years of patience — and now, every time I walk outside in April, she reminds me.

When something calls to you:

buy the rose.

s l o w

Harvesting:: the very last of the volunteer tomatoes, still green ::

Planning:: to make homemade mayonnaise today ::

Giving:: in to turning on the heat-brrr ::

Preparing:: fresh baked bread ::

Happiest:: of slow Sundays to you ::

weekending and beginning

     

     

   

   

         

 

 

November has been so warm and we have had lots of rain, the garden is loving that.  

I'm ready for more seasonable temperatures, even if it means no more tomatoes. 

It will assuredly mean soup.

Monday reset today, after a busy weekend.  

The chickens are still laying, as first year pullets do.

I'm thinking of egg salad for lunch and maybe a fritatta for supper.   

Enjoy your Monday!

~tina