All Things Bright and Beautiful

My peonies are a wonderful gift this year!

 

                                 

                                    Don't the pink ones just sing wedding?

The hot pink one is cuddled up to an iris that makes an instant bouquet.      

              This is a unique one.  After the petals fall, it is still pretty        with a dark pink center.

All things bright and beautiful, and the Lord made them all.

                                                                                 

                                                Between Naps on the Porch
                                                                 Come visit!

My New White Picket Fence

When I heard that the "fence" people were coming the next day, I walked out to my garden and snapped a few pics.  Who knows what will survive.

My carolina jasmine is just starting to bloom.

To help you understand what my garden consists of, we live in a town home very close to the Tennessee River.   Our back yard consists of a path and parking for two cars.  Yes, we have a garage but that is for "the lady", my golf cart that I use for fishing.  Our fence is approximately twenty-five years old.  So it was time.

This is a knock-out rose that we pruned last fall.  The "fence man" said we should "cut this waay back".

This is the third year for my peonies.  Up until this year, they have had a few blooms but this year they are loaded with buds.

I wonder if my "endless summer" hydrangea will survive the "fence man's" big feet.

           My lenten roses always announce Spring is coming.

Armadi clematis is starting to bloom.  It's fragrance is wonderful.

I wasn't sure any of my garden would survive.  Everyone told me that there was "nothing I could do".  I knew I had to try.  I need you to visualize this:  red crepe paper streamers tied around every "plant that I have to save".  Sorry, I'm never good at taking "before" pics.

I know this post is getting long but I have to show you.....Just the pics, not much talking.

The fence men did great!  They did it all by hand instead of using their auger.  (big drill-looking machine)  I stayed out there with them.  I know they loved that.  The red crepe paper didn't hurt either.

This vine called "Jackson vine" came with us when we moved from Jackson street.  I hope it makes it.

                                                          Other side of drive...

Is that a shirt I see hanging on the lamp post?

Lord, have mercy!

Lime tree on the right

Fig tree

Thanks for coming by.  I hope you enjoyed my garden path.

                                                

                                                     

                                                                       Come Visit
                                                           Between Naps On the Porch

I Need A Yard Man!

I walk down my tiny, garden path several times each day, dead-heading, pulling weeds, filling holes that those pesky chipmunks keep digging. As I get older, just as personal maintenance requires more effort, so does doing what I enjoy most, gardening. You would laugh if you could see (I’ll show you later) how little of a lawn and garden I’m talking about. The thing is, I need a yard man who will dig where I tell him to dig, plant what I want planted, and clean up after himself. He cannot ask me why I want to put another shrub in that place. He cannot pressure-wash my concrete pieces and clay pots that I have patiently grown green moss on. He must get excited when something blooms and ooh and ahhh. He absolutely cannot prune anything! What do you think? Is he out there?

Big pot is waiting on “yard man” to plant little gem magnolia

Patio and path always a work in progress.  
2 more urns “waiting for the yard man.” 






Thanks for coming by!

Remember, this was first published on my blog, bcpmylife.  I am in the process of moving all posts to my new blog, messagefrommimi.blogspot.com

My Friendship Garden

I came across this post from my life several years ago. We lived in a hundred year old home in the historic district of our town. Reading this brought back memories that I thought you might enjoy. I know I have pictures (somewhere) and I will share them (sometime). Enjoy!


My yard is a collection of memories. It reminds me of my childhood,
family, and dear friends. As Spring presents itself again, I remember…
The wisteria we dug from the riverbank creates an umbrella of fragrant
blossoms each Mother’s Day. The stone bench that sits underneath used to be a fireplace mantel in a field hand’s old house on the farm where my
husband grew up. Buttercups from my mother’s yard—so old she doesn't
remember who shared them with her.
Snowball bushes brought from the yard where I grew up are a pleasant
reminder of that time. The little dogwood seedling given to us by some
dear friends, was brought from the woods on their farm. Its branches
now cast shadows over the goldfish pond. The old rocks that Mr. Turner
(the caretaker of the Wheeler plantation) let us have to frame our pond,
remind my husband of the years his family lived on the Plantation as
sharecroppers. The English boxwoods are another treasure from that
historical place.
The fragrant Carolina jasmine growing on our fence is a treasured gift
from Mrs. Anne B. Wyatt, a former neighbor and dear lady. How I
wish she could walk in my backyard with me again. The smell of
sweet-shrub in the late afternoon as I brush its branches remind me
of Bill(my husband’s brother who died this past winter). He was always
sharing his plants with us.
The bird bath is an old piece of statuary we purchased at Mrs. Case’s
estate auction. This is a pleasant reminder of a sweet lady. Irises
were shared by many including my Aunt Annie and Aunt Madge.
I always forget how beautiful they are until they bloom again.
The Seven Sisters running rose bush is one we brought from Ma Ida’s.
The gardenia by the back steps with its heavy, sweet-smelling blooms
was given to us by the White’s next door—such good neighbors!
The Lady Banks rose, hydrangea and ferns came from our son’s
back yard. Oak leaf hydrangeas were brought from our daughter’s
hedge. (She hates them!)
The sun dial has a special place in my flower garden. It’s another
reminder of treasured friends. My sister gave me the purple columbine.
It comes back every year as a reminder that she will always be there
for me.
I’m waiting for the ginger lilies to poke through the earth again. Their
blooms are as fragrant as gardenias and as delicate as orchids. The
thrill of their flowers in late summer and early Autumn remind me of
a good friend, Frances, who shared the tubers with me.

As I sit here in the warm sunshine of early springtime, I wonder about
the quince and the mock orange. How old are they? Did someone
share those? I look at the Jackson vine and wonder if someone
besides me(in another time) enjoyed the shade it gives the front porch.

My mother recently told me as she walked in my back yard, “You
have three shrubs there and you hardly have room for one!" Well,
I like it that way. I have lots of friends!

Hymn of Promise ( a favorite)

In the bulb there is a flower,

in the seed, an apple tree,

In co-coon, a hidden promise,

Butterflies will soon be free!

In the cold and snow of winter,

a spring that waits to be,

unrevealed until its' season,

something God alone can see.

I love seed catalogs! Always have. I recently "googled" seed catalogs and found a feast! I ordered every free one I could find. I got my first one this week. The beautiful Burpee catalog was like candy. (www.burpee.com) I want to order everything. With very little space to plant anything, I have to restrain myself.

I'm longing for Spring.....how about you?

First published bcpmylife.com  (both blogs belong to me)

Dark Roots and Red Ends

Each birthday, as I get older, I re-evaluate, i.e: take stock, resolve to make some changes.

On my last birthday,  I decided this was the year to do something about my graying hair. Well, as anyone who knows me can tell you, the first few attempts were total disasters! Very expensive disasters. As I was trying to convince myself that dark roots and
red ends made me look younger, my insightful granddaughter informed me she thought "it was
morally wrong to dye your hair". Finally I said "no more, I'm not doing this anymore!" Then my sister suggested a "mousse". (Dear God in heaven) I thought this was a dessert! "No", she said, "just a temporary color to use around your face where you have more gray."
O.K., I'll try anything once. I did, and it was working great until.....my doctor's office called---they had an appointment available if I could be there in thirty minutes. First, I don't do well rushing anymore, in fact, I refuse to do it. But I did need the appointment. When I sat down in the waiting room, I was sweating so I went to the restroom in the waiting area to get some paper towels to wipe my face. As I looked in the mirror I saw black lines running down my face.
My white, linen top had black smudges on it. Good grief! No one had considered how much my scalp sweats, not perspires, SWEATS!
The only mousse I use now is Chocolate-----the dessert kind.

This was first published on bcpmylife.com.  I am slowly moving these posts to messagefrommimi.blogspot.  Both blogs belong to me.  Thanks for coming by.

I agree with Katie, I think it is morally wrong to color your hair.