Sweet Sounds

A high-school friend has asked my husband to play at his wedding this summer.  My husband, honored by the request, has begun practicing. It has been far, far too long since I've heard the sound of his guitar around the house.  It's nice to hear its return.

Our daughter woke up, and was bewildered.  I don't think she's heard her father play, but if she has, she was too, too little to remember it.

I carried her into our room.  She sat on the bed.  Her eyes were wide with surprise.  Then she stretched out, and propped her chin on her hands.  She watched & watched Scott; her eyes sparkled, fascinated.

It was a magical time that she did not want to end.

Wearing My Heart on My Door

It's only twenty days until Valentine's Day! Thought I'd decorate.

Here's the first photo

I tried, but it got

photobombed:

See her down

in the corner?

Then she was all,

"Take my picture!

Not like that!

Like this!"

Where "that" would be

actually seeing her face,

and "this" is all about

the back of her head.

Then she wanted to dance.

Dance, little girl, dance!

Thank You, Mr. Wordsworth

A better name might be "Impatients," but since there is already a flower named such, we'll stick with the light-hearted "Daffodil."

I adore daffodils and other bulbs. They're easy to grow, lovely to look at, enchanting to smell. I would bring home handful of naturalized double daffodils to fill the whole house in Germantown with their scent and bright color; I was thrilled that the bulbs I'd transplanted came up blooming the next year.

My bulbs are a hodge-podge of ones I found being deprived of sun in the middle of my yard, with a few additions.

The jonquils and creamy daffodils will soon bloom beside the front walk. At about the same time, the grape hyacinth all over my yard will peep out. I hope the tulips from David & Susie's wedding will return, but alas, the squirrels & ants think my flower bed is a buffet; luckily the Star of Bethlehem are starting to spread (quite a hearty selection from the Wildflower Society.) I have a smallish patch of false garlic and purselane I keep rescuing from my backyard, but they have not been moved to this bed.

From spring into summer, I have the Easter lilies in this bed, blue flag iris by the garage and three different colors of iris on the side of the house. I can't forget the hostas and the lily of the valley in front of my house. Summer belongs to my day lilies and blackberry lilies in the corner. My "surprise" lilies (otherwise known as spider lilies) make a showing by the mailbox in Indian summer, while my spider grasses here & there wrap-up the fall. No sooner do the leaves fall from the trees, then my bulbs start poking their shoots up again.

As you can see, this bed is nowhere near as glamorous as I make it sound. And that mailbox? Oh, 15 years old and showing it. I hope, with enough chewing gum & bailing wire, to hold the post together

until fall. Then I'll pull out all the bulbs and the old post, really dig down and amend the soil, while expanding the bed and putting in a deeper border. Then back in with a new post, and my bulbs back in maybe an inch deeper than they are. They've sort of grown themselves top-ward. Maybe I'll get some fancy varieties and some tulips. Anything's possible.

But for right now, I'll just enjoy what I have. They are determined souls with a sunny disposition. See! Five hours later, and they're busting out all over. Even January deserves a bit of joy.