I am speaking of spring, of course! Have I mentioned that I love spring? It's as if the world were trying to apologize for all the mean things it did to us during the winter. Believe me, after last winter's ice storm, it owes us one! First: Wild roses. I planted these seven years ago. I've tried for the past six years to get rid of them. They're the spiniest, spikiest things you've ever seen in your life. But they are lovely when the bloom! They grow all over the place in Oklahoma, and supposedly, they were brought in by the early settlers' wives. The rose that is strong enough to survive a covered wagon ride across country isn't going to be discouraged by a little thing like being dug up by me each and every year!
Second: Irises. These were transplanted from my mom's childhood home, on a farm in Missouri. She and my grandma planted them, and years later, went back to dig some up. The farm house is now in a sad state, abandoned and falling to ruin, but the irises will certainly outlive it. Isn't it funny that my family passes down flowers as heirlooms? I'd rather have these than jewels, anyway!
Despite all my complaints about how tiny my house is, it IS a cute little house. It's not a bad little house, Charlie Brown! It just needs a little love! (And maybe an extra thousand square feet!)
Ok, I know this doesn't look like much. These are the seedlings I planted a few weeks back. If you look closely, you'll see...purple basil! Ta Da! Every day when I check on my seedlings, I feel like I'm getting a little present. It's so exciting to watch them grow. I'm such a DORK!
Because I'm weird and a little obsessed with having a wreath for every occasion, I felt the need to come up with a "live" wreath for this spring. Each and every morning finds me watering my front door. I'm not sure whether I should be impressed with myself, or a little scared for my own sanity. I'm pretty sure I know which of these options my neighbors choose when they see me watering my door. I'm assuming you can't see the lettuce growing from the street.
Last, but not least, there are my peonies. This is only the third year that they've bloomed, and I can't help but think they're gorgeous. The bees all agree with me. Right before they bloomed, I was mesmerized by the site of a huge bumblebee hovering patiently over a bud, waiting for it to open. There were other flowers all around him, but he wanted this one. Really, can you blame him?