Sticking with the garden theme, today I’m grateful for camellias.
Yesterday it was daffodils. Today it’s a rhododendron.
This one was transplanted by my mother-in-law from the garden of her parents-in-law.
It survived successive droughts when the only water it got had to be carried to it in a bucket.
It’s also survived frosts and snow.
Tonight I’m grateful for the lesson from nature’s resilience, and for a garden where the plants hold stories of generations past.
The leaves on the trees are just beginning to change colour and summer flowers are fading as autumn makes it mark in the garden.
But the Japanese anemones are in full bloom and I”m grateful for them.
It’s not a large garden but it was very, very weedy.
I started dealing with the weeds yesterday and finished today.
I wasn’t aiming for perfection, and didn’t get it but I can see where I’ve been and that the garden looks much better now than it did before I started and I’m grateful for that.
Stinging nettles are the exception to the rule that weeds are just plants in the wrong place.
The wet spring has encouraged far too many of them and I spent much of this morning pulling them out.
Today I’m very grateful for thick garden gloves.
If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden. – Frances Hodgson Burnett who was born on this day in 1849.
She also said:
Two things cannot be in one place. Where you tend a rose, my lad, a thistle cannot grow.
When you will not fly into a passion people know you are stronger than they are, because you are strong enough to hold in your rage, and they are not, and they say stupid things they wish they hadn’t said afterward. There’s nothing so strong as rage, except what makes you hold it in–that’s stronger. It’s a good thing not to answer your enemies.
A National Party Mainland conference a couple of years ago coincided with Mothers’ Day.
A member who grows tulips donated bulbs for all the mothers.
Mine are in full bloom at the moment, looking gorgeous and I’m grateful for them.