Sunday, January 20, 2013
It's become a destination. Whenever I enter, something has changed. Bloomed, budded, leafed.
I hardly recognize the geranium stubs I started in the living room in November.
The resilience of plants is something I strive to emulate. All they need is water, light, and warmth.
Love helps, too.
Crown of Thorns. I want to cut it back but it won't stop blooming.
Teeny tiny Hawaiian impatiens.
I've strung lights on Rosemary.
The Baby Butterhead lettuce is coming in, nice and sweet. I keep it near the floor where it will stay cool and not bolt.
Sweet fake of summer, the jasmine's in bloom. It looks pathetic but it's leafing out at last. And blooming, first. Thank you.
These greens are good for the eyes and spirit.
I have yet to tire of the primroses.
Best ten bucks I've ever spent.
Chet has his own chair. We keep three in there, one for me, a guest (usually Bill), and Chet. There wasn't room for even a stool in the Garden Pod. I always stood up when I was in there. But this is more like a little atrium. It's a room. A place to be.
And why shouldn't I have my own chair?
Mether thinks I look like George Clooney with my gray eyebrows.