.....these are a few of my favorite things....
The first wild violet of spring, was spied this week. Its tiny purple petals made my heart skip a beat.
I opened my new watercolor sketch book and made my first entry...
The first wild violet of spring, was spied this week. Its tiny purple petals made my heart skip a beat.
I opened my new watercolor sketch book and made my first entry...
The lenten rose, blooming along the path to the backyard, and the snowdrops, abounding as well, and a cluster of blossoms from the pear trees, became a tiny bouquet, along with the violet....
I later pressed the soft petals between the pages of the sketch book...
I then remembered the shamrocks found and pressed last year, in the pages of a Kate Douglas Wiggins book....
Inside the book was a sweet remembrance...
Each time the rain showers end, there is more color, buds begin to open a little bit more....
And here is the Bradford pear outside my window in the sun room...in all its glory...
This is my favorite season of all...when all things become new.
The hollyhock seedlings are ever-reaching for the sunshine streaming in the garden window...
Our grandson Xavier came to spend some time with us, and it was decided this would be a perfectly perfect day for a visit to Mamaw's farm. As she was recuperating from a fall and anxious to be out in the garden...we brought a bit of the garden to her.
A sweet poesy of snowdrops and lenten roses....
The lovely old book, Poetry of Flowers, revealed "Snowdrops bringeth hope and spring." The poesy was fashioned in a similar manner to that of our friends Dianne and Sarah at Corgyncombe Courant. In the movie Cranford, Snowdrops were the gift to a young girl, by her suitor. Such sweetness in one tiny flower, nodding the message of hope and spring.
We arrived at the farm, greeted sweet Mamaw with hugs and flowers and the old book, for her perusal in the days ahead... and then Xavier and I were off to gather daffodils for his mommy...
He stops for a pose beside the bright yellow blooms...
In the bright sunshine, the sweet freckles on his nose make this Grammy smile...
We are so thrilled to find a few violets peeking out from the dried leaves.
This old farm has seen generations come and go...for it was the home of dear Mamaw's in-laws. Many of the daffodils we see today were planted over 100 years ago. We are fascinated by the passing of time evidenced by an old cedar post....
and an ancient door on an out building, with its ancient hinge...
I ask Xavier to stand there by the old door, and even he is curious, "Grammy what's in there?" We save that adventure for another time, and he smiles sweetly, holding the bouquet of flowers for his mommy..
...and there, again, are those darling freckles on that cherubic face. He has my heart, in every way, even sharing my love for old doors...
I head back inside to visit and knit and share stories, Xavier follows Ted the dog as he plays around the yard, and wonderful husband takes shovel in hand and tackles the 40 year old hydrangea bush. For the second time, we are transplanting some of it to our home. The last transplant went to the house with the "marshmallow tree" where it continues to thrive...and now this one will be planted outside our front window.
The bare stalks are just beginning to reveal their fresh green leaves....
We water and fertilize and receive spring showers with grateful hearts...and pray...
and wait with great anticipation for those glorious blues and purples and pinks to decide who will take the lead on this lovely lady standing humbly beyond the curtains of Grammy's House.