One of the the things I enjoy most about gardening is the way that the plants I grow will occasionally surprise me. The bulb that I forgot I placed in the fall ground will provide a lovely surprise come the spring. That plant that I least expected to succeed, not only succeeds but thrives in the soil. This spring, the rhododendron bushes that grow on either side of my front porch steps qualify as that kind of surprise.
The plants are always lovely, of course, but last year's winter was rather rough for them and come last spring they didn't bounce back as much as I would have liked. I did some garden research to diagnose the problem and trimmed off some dead branches early this year. hen I promptly forgot about the rhododendrons. Or at least I did until this past week when the bushes exploded in color, with a lavish display of deep purple flowers.
As I contemplate the damage of first 6 months of the Cheetoh Kleptocrat’s rule, I cannot fathom what the next 6 will bring us. I grow weary of the vigilant fear that is occasioned by this president. Time to exercise the 25th amendment, y’all. I like to read (I just finished Jane Austen’s Emma), garden, cook, and talk.
I love… baby bunnies, summer blooms, morning coffee, flip flops and toe rings, planning history lessons, Harriet Tubman, enchanted fairy gardens, farm stands, homegrown tomatoes, thinking about my bulletin board, crisp white shirts, leisurely summer days, mowing the lawn, pinning my hair in a bun, lush green hostas, shiny wood floors, adventures with T, and a sweaty workout.