“When God decided to make a rose He must have been thinking of you.” Roses are my favorites. Even though there is Foxglove and Fushia and even though there are Chrysanthemums and Marigolds. Even though there is Lavender, and Lantana, and Lily of the Valley. Even though the mountains sprout Lupine and pools float Lotus... Continue Reading →
Summer means catching fireflies, the smell of suntan lotion, churning ice cream, porch-swinging and playing in the warm beach sand.
"To walk in a woman's garden is to visit her soul." c. e. hollis In Natchez, high on a bluff above the swollen muddy Mississippi River, sits a masterpiece left over from a grace-filled era. Rosalie, sporting in front and back, great lofty white columns and tall windows along the verandas and porches. The grounds... Continue Reading →
There were no roses today––only hyacinths and a few daffodils. I have worked on my spring flowerbeds. I found my white rose bush in the back flowerbeds, my luscious yellow rose bush, and the red/black velvet––a very old bush planted before I moved to the farm 21 years ago––have all died. I will miss... Continue Reading →