Under The Weather

A dark and rainy day today.

I confess to not even changing out of my night clothes yet, and the clock has just struck three in the afternoon.

What's the point, I'm not expecting visitors.

Days seem to run together, cocooned in isolation, our little world as we know it, turned upside down.

Even the cats are tired of us being in their space.

*sigh*.

Late Bloomer

Our Iris have finally bloomed.
It seems as though they are always late bloomers, long after most others in the neighborhood have put on their Spring show, ours slowly awaken.

They are from antique Iris stock, handed down from family member, to family member, these particular flowers being over a half a century old.
Tended with love and shared amongst the generations, from great grandmother, to great granddaughter.
                                                                        ⚘

 

 

 

The Tennessee State Flower

May your blooms be floriferous and in good form,
Distinctive, with good substance, flare, and airborne,
With standards and falls that endure, never torn.
May you display many buds and blooms sublime,
In graceful proportion on strong stalks each day,
Gently floating above the fans and the fray.
May you too reach toward the moon and stars,
Bloom after bloom, many seasons in the sun,
Enjoying your life, health, and each loved one,
Until your 'living days are artfully done.

~ Georgia Gudykunst

 

Snoring

Oliver cat is a snorer.
In the quiet of the night, he sounds like a bear in a cave, I oftentimes have to give him a gentle 'nudge', and encourage him to quiet down.

Smitten

I love timeless kitchens, Old English or Primitive style.

They don't have to be large, just warm and cozy, with hanging copper pots, blue and white dishes, baskets for storage, and time-weathered cupboards. 

 

 

 

 

And who wouldn't love spending the night in this cozy little bedroom.

Sweet.

 

 

 

Be still my heart ❤

 

Optimism

There is so much work to do, after a long winter's nap..

Fluffing and cutting and general sweeping away winter's dust and grime.

The lawns get their first mowing of the Spring season, but I'm resisting the urge to plant flowers until more stable warm weather arrives, since covering plants with white sheets every night, becomes a chore in itself.

We're hoping all the freeze-warnings will soon be a thing of the past, and we can soon return to the outdoors.

I know of two sweet kitties, who are just busting at the seams to join us.

 

 

  

Were I to live a thousand years
I still would know that flaming thrill,
That rush of joy when first appears —the golden daffodil.

A thousand times my heart would sing
When purple irises unfold;
Or when forsythia's branches bring
Their dazzling showers of gold.

I could not see an almond tree
With branches all a rosy glow
But that a tide of ecstasy
would through my being flow.

Were I to see, a thousand times,
Blue scilla bells amid green grass,
I know I'd hear their fairy chimes
As I would pass.

Were I to live a thousand years
I'd never watch the nesting birds
Except through eyes bedimmed with tears,
My tongue bereft of words.

Were I to weave ten thousand lays,
Knew I a thousand songs to sing,
I still would lack the power to praise
—the miracle of Spring.

Silver Lining ~Wilhelmina Sitch 1888