November Roses

And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.

October Rose

Read Five Alive after One Brave Choice

For I know that the Lord is great, and that our Lord is above all gods.  Whatsoever the Lord pleased, that did he in heaven, and in earth, in the seas, and all deep places.  ~Psalm 135:5, 6

Thy Name Is Iris

ALL CLICKABLE FOR ENLARGEMENTS














I did choose only a few to poke here.

Behold, I come quickly: hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown.  Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my God: and I will write upon him my new name.  ~Revelation 3:12

FunnyNot Flowers

Okay, you remembering that rant I did recently about the combination of red and gumball purple flowers?  I said I'd do my best to abide the purple throats on the white ... on the white what?  I think it's phlox, and if you know better, go ahead and laugh.  Remember, I'd been stuck with those purple throats, because they were in a 4-pack with white and red.  What you're about to learn, though, is the joke some seed-sifter-sorter-poker played on me.  Look what was on that extra stem in the cell containing the red flowers:

Don't think I didn't do a double-take
when these presented themselves.
To salve this terrible affront to my floral beauty sensibilities, note the gorgeous new Calla lilies, compliments of Son2 and his wife.  Something is thriving in the pitiful new flower bed.


This next one I can take credit for buying ... and managing to keep alive for nearly two weeks now.  Pretty little specimen.  ºÜº

Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.  If then God so clothe the grass, which is to day in the field, and to morrow is cast into the oven; how much more will he clothe you, O ye of little faith?  ~Luke 12:27, 28

BushNot Progress

This poor bushnot needs a subject tag of its own.

On April 23rd, I noticed it was beginning to sprout.  That would be the scrawny little shoots looking like anemic asparagus.


It's nigh-on as ugly as Cousin Annie's pansies.  Oops, 'xcuse me.

While it annually arises in a fairly well defined circle, this year some sprouts appeared beyond its usual confinement.  The bushnot that ate the island.


On May 7th, exactly two weeks later, it looked like this:


I think we could ring it with lawn chairs and watch it grow.  You can be sure you'll be seeing it again.  If my memory serves me (yeah, right), it'll reach its summer splendor sometime in June.  That would be if the CowNots stop escaping their meadow and munching on it, as they did yesterday.  Better the bushnot than the vegetable garden, which is where we found them earlier in the week.  Waaaaa.

Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law.  ~Psalm 119:18

Ugly

In the last comment box, Cousin Annie mentioned she was going to send me photos of her pansies, so I'd realize they're truly not ready for show-and-tell.  The following conversation just occurred in our kitchen, liberally sprinkled with hysterical, wheezing laughter (since a fuzzywuzzit has taken up residence in my breather, and my talker is inhabited by 2 geese and a bear, which take turns speaking).

Son3:  What have you been laughing about?

CarolineNot:  Annie's pansies.

Son3:  Are they pansy pansies?

CarolineNot:  Yeah.

Son3:  Well, what's so funny about 'em?

CarolineNot:  They're ugly.  [I doubled over at this point.]

Son3:  Well, let me see 'em.

CarolineNot:  They're in my email.  Go look.

Son3:  Those aren't pansies.  (He'd been looking at the lilacs.)

CarolineNot:  No, it's one with the subject line "ugly."

Son3:  Oh.  Oh my.  I don't know that those are even pansies.  We have stuff like that growing up out of the driveway.

Son4:  Why are you laughing so hard?

CarolineNot:  'Cause I'm gonna blog 'em.
_________________________________________

I'll give today's photos from Cousin Annie her own subject lines:

"Ugly"


"Ugly/Ucca Yucca"


"Barely Better"


"God's Work - BEAUTIFUL!!"

Now these next two are the pretty dianthus and zinnia photos she sent me last week.  See, just a bit of time under Cousin Annie's tender care, and those pansies will be beautiful.  Couldn't resist, though, sharing the pathetic pansies, since "Ugly" was the first in my Inbox and sent me into gales of laughter.  Gotta share the joy!




[Pay no attention to Cousin Annie's whiskey jug in the side of that photo.  I've been pretending to not see it for days, and it's workin' for me.]  ºÜº

He hath made every thing beautiful in his time.  ~Ecclesiastes 3:11a

I Planted Flowers

Cousin Annie sent me photos of her beautiful dianthus and zinnias.  She said she was going to give her pansies time to fill out before she captured their images for me.  I had to tell her my new flower bed was going online this morning, even in its scrawny, pathetic state, because this may be the best it'll ever look, given I'll be the person tending it (or not). Heavy on the not.


Yes, you see a green wire fence around the bed.  That's chickenproofing fence.  I could only get it in white, so I bought spray paint.  One can.  Goofball.  Even though there just isn't all that much wire to cover, it seems one can't exactly direct the spray to miss the holes.  Since I'd forgotten to buy the fence on the first trip to town, I had to make a second run.  I wasn't about to drive in a third time in one day.  Thankfully, Charles was able to scrounge-up 3 more cans of green spray paint in varying states of filled and finish the job.  *mopping brow of whiny, impatient wife*




If you're twitchin' over those purple throats, I'm with ya.  I know, really know, people who plant red and bubble gum purple flowers together love that combination, so I'm really happy for them.  I am.  That mix, however, makes me feel bad.  I'm sorry.  I can't help it.  Those purple throats came along in a 4-pack of other colors, and I wasn't going to just toss them out.  If as the season progresses, those throats offend me, I'll strangle them ... or dig them up and plant them in a pot distant from any red blooms, where they will be perceived by me only as lovely, which naturally they would be.


Actually, there will eventually be a profusion of marigolds in the mix, said flowers being the impetus for my chosen color scheme this year.  I wanted the vegetable garden ringed in marigolds, and seed packets were on sale for 19¢ each, so I took them all...pig that I am.  We managed to ring the garden with fewer than 1,500 seeds (heh-heh), so I've a few packets of seeds left.

Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honour and glory for ever and ever.  Amen.  ~I Timothy 1:17

Autumn Leaves

I don't know what's gotten into me, crafting post titles, then setting up a yammer about things not pertaining one whit to the topic. We'll just hope this little jag is short-lived.

You need to run over to Janie's new blog, This Little Mommy Went to Market..., because I know some of you are interested in her topic and may even have a comment or two to toss into her box, as time wears on.

I'm supposed to be answering a couple of emails from my darling daughter-in-law, but she knows I'm a photo hound and will understand I happened to remember those leaves in the camera, shortly after I sat down here.

I hollered into the other room, "Son3, have you downloaded any photos?"

"No. Why?"

"I didn't want a repeat of the trauma I suffered a couple of mornings ago."

It went okay this time, exceptin' for that little bout with "(Not Responding)." Tell me something I don't know. I'd been staring at the white screen for at least 15 seconds when the little advisory appeared. Do I have Dumb As Dirt on my forehead or something? I'm 'bout up to my gizzard with the computer sticking its tongue out at me. Rude.

Leaves. But I'll be poking them under the flowers label. A girl doesn't want to get too carried away with her labels, and I'm not so keen on the world's scientific classification system anyway. I'm no more animal than the sofa is. Just call me a scientist, and I can happily poke my leaves under the flowers label, simply because it suits my purpose. *brushing hands*

Everyone has them, but can we enjoy too many? ºÜº







For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater: so shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it. For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. ~Isaiah 55:10-12

The Maligned BushNot

Are you scared? Thinkin' I'm gonna get all political again? Calm yourself. It's really about a bushnot, hereafter know as the bush. To be entirely candid, we do call it a bush...but we know it's technically not one.

Having taken up residence here in August, '06, and needing to make some major, indoor amendments right away, we had little time for exploring (or even noticing) what was happening outdoors. I daresay, though, that the subject bush did nothing noticeable that year; it sat there, being a large, green bush. In the fall, Son4 and I noticed the interior of the bush was riddled with what appeared to be dead, dry, brown reeds. So we spent part of an afternoon literally walking into the bush, pulling them out of the ground, and we amassed a goodly tower of reeds to be hauled away.

As winter set in, the remaining green, leafy bush became a large clump of single, brown reeds. Hmm and uh-oh. And it was around that time when Charles began grumping about the bush. Everything gets kinda ugly in winter, so I pled for the bush's life.

Sure enough, come spring of '07, the bush began to leaf-out. By late June, I brought the bush to the attention of Charles, and he agreed that its summer show warranted a stay of execution.

The bush wintered in brown, reed form again, and Charles was again threatening all manner of harm to it. On March 22nd of this year, I set fire to the reeds. It was do or die time. That bush was setting Charles' teeth on edge, thus mine were doing a little grinding of their own. NOW look at the bush:


Pretty. ºÜº

In May I noticed little, green heads popping out of the burned circle. Sorta put one in mind of an asparagus patch. Sure enough, the bush grew and grew and eventually graced the driveway island with an enormous pouf of rounded, lush greenery. I was feeling pretty satisfied with myself, the protector, the lifesaver.

Then last week, Charles asked, "Have you seen your bush!?" I had. And satisfaction had turned to full-blown puffed-up-ed-ness, but I wasn't going to be the first to mention it. It had not only adorned the island with greenery through the summer, it was now fully abloom with beautiful clusters of flowers. My tender ministrations (read: Okay, I'll just set fire to the stinkin' thing) were just what the bush needed:





We still have no idea what the growth really is, so if anyone out there can name this spring asparagus-looking, winter dead-reed, summer lush, and autumn flowered thing, do tell.


O bless our God, ye people, and make the voice of his praise to be heard: which holdeth our soul in life, and suffereth not our feet to be moved. ~Psalm 66:8, 9