Strength and Beauty

In an effort to get my head out of my ass, I sat down in the wintry kitchen nook and made plans for my garden. Yes, it is early. But I sure do miss my garden.

This year I am making an electric propagating bed. Sounds impressive; it is. A box with a warming coil covered in sand and you put the seedlings on top of that. I spent the afternoon going through all my seeds, categorizing them, herbs, vegetables, full sun flowers, part sun flowers, etc. I then slowly, very slowly perused through the Burpee’s seed catalog making a dream list (that accounted for a couple hundred dollars and that is why it is called a dream list). How many different variety of tomatoes do I “need”? Do I need every color variation of nasturtium? Could I go without the bi-colored beets (probably not)? Dreaming about green things; caught up in a whole other fantasy world that involved rototillers, sand, and vermiculite.

I did all this while it snowed a couple of inches in my backyard and then I proceeded to go outside with the little snow-women (who looked just like Randy from A Christmas Story).

Scarlet did not proceed to move one little size 5 foot in any direction; paralyzed by all the white stuff.

We made snow angels, even Scarlet with such a cute, tiny wingspan. I jumped in more than once and I fear that may be why by lower back is a achin’ me and requiring multiple doses of Ibuprofen. Can you say, “Old Lady!”?

We went for a little sled ride; me pulling them around the back yard until, unbeknownst to me, they fell off face first into the snow. I have a bad Trudi-habit of laughing hysterically in these situations. But I sure did scoop up the littlest of the two who had the most snow-plowed-face damage and provided some comfort and a windshield wiper blade sort of swipe with my glove.

Gotcha! The one and only beauty of a photo amidst all the rest.
I love these two snow-women.

I have pulled all the tubules from the earth and have laid them to rest on a cardboard box in the basement. In time, they will return to warm soil and be watered by spring rains and color will resume. Until then, I cherish these last blooms.

how about a message on a chain link fence?

When I was a teenager we lived in a mountain town in northern California that used to be a stopping point for loggers. We lived in a very old house that had a wrap around porch. My mom, being the Trudi that she is, put up a clothesline. For big occasions or to make a grand announcement she would use the clothesline. She would take cloth diapers and electric tape and write out a message hanging it for all to see. So I kind of copied this idea. Thanks Mom.

Quite fun making a surprise with Audrey for her daddy. We rehearsed it for weeks prior to the big event. We used a bandanna to cover his eyes and played up the whole surprise semi-kidnapping factor.

I left it up for a week after Father’s Day and we got many a look and then a smile and then some pointing. People would slow down to look at it, shout out their car windows, “that’s cute”, and a few kids I overheard walking by reading the sign to their buddies.

I think everyone in the neighborhood knows without a doubt that we love our daddy.

I made some of you smile. My face is that cute nestled in those voluptuous pink petals, isn’t it?

Wouldn’t you just love to have this gazing at you as you slumber? And ever so often when you turn over in the night with a sigh escaping you and the perfume of the peony enters you.

What an indescribable flower in some ways. You could get lost in there.

Here’s a toast of peony to you, dear Kathleen.