food, crochet, merriment
This is not a post about dogs.
See the good birdy. See her eat the seeds that we scatter for her. See her sit there pretty and let me take her picture.
Good, good birdy.
See the naughty birdy. See the fake picture of the naughty birdy. She won’t sit still for me to take a picture.
Oh, no–she’s too busy…
EATING MY STRAWBERRIES!! Apparently this birdy doesn’t know with whom she plays.
I have friends you know…
Obviously not us…
or this wouldn’t be going on–let me tell you.
Or this.
And I’m pretty darn sure those willow branches are not suppose to be touching the ground.
So the bald kid and I trudged around making little cardboard Barbie tents out of old boxes…
to shelter my newly planted petunias.
And they promptly got buried.
Be brave little flowers.
Just as soon as we humans are in charge again–Spring is certain to come.
Though I can’t prove it.
“What power shall stay the heavens? As well might man stretch forth his puny arm to stop the river in its decreed course, or to turn it up stream, as to hinder the Almighty…” Ok, ok…I get it.
Nothing like a little color to remind a person that it really, truly is Spring…nearly Summer, in fact. Goofy cold weather has been holding us back from the garden, but we’ve come to the place where if feels like “plant or perish!”
So the bald kid kindly dug up a generous patch of spent dirt, mixed it with some soil booster…
and promptly bought me some flowers. Ooohhh I love that kid. Someone must have raised him right…heh.
To me–pink and purple petunias are pure perfection. Say that 5 times fast, I dare you.
Anyway, we dug a billion little holes for our billion little flowers and filled each space with water. “A five dollar hole for a fifty cent flower” as my mama used to say. We had to work quickly because…
when we looked up to our mountains we saw…
all that coming our way. Lucky for us valley folk that before it reached us…
the snow graciously…turned to rain.
Gracious rain.
Has a lovely ring to it–
don’t you think?
in the garden…
a genuine—-Leprechaun!!
I snuck up behind him and slammed a jar over his little green self and now he’s mine!
Pretty dang sure he owes me a pot of gold, or a wish or something…can’t remember how it goes.
If you haven’t seen any of these little fellows in your hedges yet, don’t feel bad.
I guess I just have the ‘touch.’ Hahaha.
This guy is the perfect little friend to have around—to keep you from getting pinched.
And if he’s got a pot of gold hidden somewhere–you can bet, I’m gonna find it.
Wish me luck.
When money is plenty this is a man’s world. When money is scarce it is a woman’s world. When all else seems to have failed, the woman’s instinct comes in. That is the reason why, in spite of all that happens, we continue to have a world.
—Ladies Home Journal, October 1932
