Sunday Muddy Sunday

A quiet place

I need a quiet place I have one in my garden. I go there to be alone with my thoughts.

In my garden there is a small plot that is our pet cemetary. Two kitties, 3 fish and countless sea monkeies are buried there. I have a swinging seat and a beautiful veiw of the garden, I sit there and to stop thinking, or sometimes to focus my thoughts.

This week has been especially stressful. I am getting ready for the Ann Arbor Summer Fair, finishing up orders and just trying in general to get a grip on my life.

The quiet time has been important to help me keep a balance.

Sunday Muddy Sunday

Ok it's really Monday, I know, but it's a 3-day weekend so give me a break.

This is a picture of my deck & yes I know it needs refinishing, but I'm busy, so give me another break there.

That fabulous rose is called Zepherine Drouhin. It is bourbon climber, nearly thornless and wonderfully fragrant.

Later in the season it will look like crap. it is a martyr to black spot. (Not the kind Pirates get, the kind rose bushes get).

I won't spray, so I live with it.

Anyway, I LOVE the pink color of this rose. It is actually officially called "cerise" and it demands to be noticed. It is not a sissy pink. If Cerise were a girl she could kick your ass without breaking her nails.

Sunday Muddy Sunday

This is a yellow Iris that smells like powdered lemonade mix.

Ha ha! Made you sniff the screen!

This post is the first in a series of Sunday posts on my blog inspired by my garden.

It is the end of May and things are in bloom. I live in Michigan, incase you need to be reminded, things in bloom are a big deal here. It is a short and sweet season of gardening in this area.

I love my garden. I love all gardens. They are magical places to me. They are spiritual. They are my church. They are where I feel connected to all creation.

So I decided to devote one blogging day a week to my garden and its inspiration.

This is not going to be a how to or a source of practical knowledge about plants and planting, although I do have some knowledge of things, but rather a celebration of plants and bugs and flowers and dirt.

This is one of the things that feeds my creativity. Something deep and profound happens in a place where you collaborate with nature.

I wish you really could smell this.

its a bouquet of some of my earliest blooming roses.

Zephirine Drouhin, Therese Bugnet, Reine de Violettes, and Clotilde Soupert

along with the remaining Korean lilacs.

It is heaven.