Guess Who's Been To Dinner ?

Around the garden, flowers are looking bedraggled, the excessive heat being the culprit.
Several of the old trees are already showing signs of an early Autumn, their leaves yellow and fading.

I've noticed a few of the bushes, their leaves becoming sparser and sparser, and then it became obvious why; not so much the heat, but our resident deer, chomping away merrily.......

Water Cooler Conversation

click to enlarge

"Poor indeed is the garden in which birds find no homes."

~ Abram L. Urban

The Little Home

The Little Home

The little house is not too small

To shelter friends who come to call.

Though low the roof and small its space

It holds the Lord's abounding grace,

And every simple room may be

Endowed with happy memory.

The little house, severely plain,

A wealth of beauty may contain.

Within it those who dwell may find

High faith which makes for peace of mind,

And that sweet understanding which

Can make the poorest cottage rich.

The little house can hold all things

From which the soul's contentment springs.

'Tis not too small for love to grow,

For all the joys that mortals know,

For mirth and song and that delight

Which make the humblest dwelling bright.

~Edgar A Guest

Cottage Dreams

I can see from the window a little brown house,
And the garden goes up to the top of the hill.
And the sun comes each day,
And slips down away
At the end of the garden an’ sleeps there . . . until
The daylight comes climbing up over the hill.

I do wish I lived in the little brown house,
Then at night I’d go up to the garden, an’ creep
Up . . . up . . . then I’d stop,
An’ lean over the top,
At the end of the garden, an’ so I could peep
And see what the sun looks like when it’s asleep.

Beauty In Flight

" We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever. "

~Carl Sagan

Shades of Blue

Searching For Shade

"Heat, ma'am! it was so dreadful here,
that I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones."

~ Sydney Smith, Lady Holland's Memoir

Cooling off with a walk through the woods.

Shady canopies.

"Whilst August yet wears her golden crown,

Ripening fields lush- bright with promise;

Summer waxes long, then wanes, quietly passing

Her fading green glory on to riotous Autumn."

~ Michelle L. Thieme, August's Crown

Gentle and airy Queen Anne's Lace.

Wild Blackberry Vines.

State wildflower, the Passion Flower.

Sunny squash blossom.

Where The Garden Begins

The Shed..

"In the potting shed, our hearts, the pleasures of home, and the glories of the garden merge.

Its practical character eases our garden labors.

Its romantic nature enriches our lives.

Here is peace, and beauty, and a sense of purpose."

~Linda Joan Smith : The Potting Shed

Timeless Blue And White Treasures

Ever since setting eyes on my grandma's blue and white English Staffordshire Ware, I have been a lover of this popular dinnerware.

The majority of the pieces I own, have been painstakingly wrapped and shipped over from England, a treasure to cherish from my parents.

I add to the collection whenever a piece catches my eye, although in the past few years, the prices seem to have sky rocketed.

One of the most popular lines was manufactured by Wood and Sons a classic BLUE & WHITE pattern of English Scenery in which the central landscape designs differ from plate to plate.

The firm of Wood & Sons was founded in 1865 by Absalom Wood (a descendant of the 18th century English potter Moses Wood) as Wood, Son & Co, in Burslem, Staffordshire. Thomas Wood, his son, founded the present firm around 1910, and it remained in the Wood family until 1981, when it went into receivership and was acquired by the Yorke family. The firm finally ceased to exist in 2006.
The Woods lineage also extends back to the famous 18thC Staffordshire potters Enoch and Ralph Woods, whose names and dates are given on many Woods marks.

Home On The Range

Home, home on the range,

Where the deer and the antelope play;

Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,

And the skies are not cloudy all day.

~ Dr. Brewster Higley~ 1873