okie signs and flowers

Today I drove the short trip down to Oklahoma to visit some of My Darling Husband's family. Nearing their house I passed through this intersection. I was amused by all the "Garage Sale" and "For Sale" signs clustered together on this one corner. Who has time to read them all as you whiz by or wait for the short red light to turn green? Funny. I suppose an earnest garage saler would just pull in to the parking lot to write down the addresses.

After lunch, we sat on the back patio, enjoyed the breeze, chatted, and admired Grandma P.'s flowers. She started all her roses by root cuttings. She was gifted with a magic green thumb! The only bushes I've ever been able to start from cuttings are boxwoods. That was an encouraging feat, but I would dearly like to be able to start roses from cuttings also. I've tried various methods, but they all died. Guess I'll keep trying. That red rose in the photograph below has the most intoxicating scent. My mother-in-law and I wanted to stand there and sniff it all day.  

Grandma's hibiscus tip of the day: if your hibiscus is overrun by sugar ants, just repot it into a flower pot instead of the ground, then place the pot in the center of a pan of water. The ants will stay away. She keeps her hibiscus on the patio.

This last snapshot is for My Darling Husband, who aspires to have a piece of frog yard art. We have a deal...he gets one of those and I will get to have a gazing ball.

and the flower wore white

This chrysanthemum was a table decoration at My Darling Husband's and my wedding reception. It's now in our front yard. Jack Frost sprinkled the flowers overnight.

time for the redbuds

In southeast Kansas where My Darling Husband and I live, a sure sign of spring is the redbud trees. They are in bloom now. I see more redbuds in this area than in the Kansas City area where I used to live. Along with daffodils, crocus and muscari, the redbuds are a much-anticipated harbinger of warmer weather to come. An Even Smaller Town near us has a redbud tour. Hey, you have to make your own entertainment in small towns sometimes, and it's a joy for horticulture aficianados.

don't get mad, get glads

The gladiolis that I planted last year and thought had died have bloomed again this year! They are a hardy flower, which is great for neglectful gardeners such as moi. I used to dislike glads. That was until my father planted them in his garden a few years ago and I saw them return the next year after a hard winter. Another reason I like glads now is because white ones were included in mine and My Darling Husband's wedding floral arrangements. Glads are an old-fashioned flower which fit perfectly into the vintage decorating of our wedding.

The vase is an heirloom from one of my grandmothers. I think it is very suitable for gladiolus; the gaudy parrots compliment the gaudy glads.

in memoriam

Memorial Day 2010 in our Small Town. The American Legion and the VFW sponsors a ceremony at the flagpole of the local cemetery. The Stars and Stripes on the main flagpole flies at half staff. A woman from a large city in our state reads from the diary of her late father who was in the battle of Okinawa during World War II. A World War II Navy veteran who is present is recognized for his time as a prisoner of war. The town band plays patriotic songs. The Ladies Auxilary lays flowers under the pole. A local pastor prays publicly in Jesus's name, thanking the Lord for our freedom and the brave men and women who have laid down their lives for it ever since 1776. Three volleys are fired. Taps is played.

My heart and tears say Thank you! Thank you! to those who died after defending freedom and while defending our freedom. War is ugly and should not be desired, but it is necessary sometimes. When I lived in Kansas City (I even saw it on a car at the cemetery today!), I would often see a bumper sticker that says War Is Not The Answer. That is soooo wrong. If it wasn't for war, then the Nazis would be ruling the world right now. The Muslim terrorists currently trying to rule the world do not stop their horrors when we simply dialogue and ask them to.

Sometimes war is the answer. It is necessary to defend oneself and one's country. Freedom is not free. Thank you, grandpa, Pvt. Long, and all the others...I remember often your duty, your sacrifice, your desire to keep freedom intact. May the rest of us be as brave.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

-- John McCrae

America's Answer

Rest ye in peace, ye Flanders dead.
The fight that ye so bravely led

We've taken up. And we will keep

True faith with you who lie asleep

With each a cross to mark his bed,

In Flanders fields.

Fear not that ye have died for naught.

The torch ye threw to us we caught.

Ten million hands will hold it high,

And Freedom's light shall never die!

We've learned the lesson that ye taught

In Flanders fields.

-- R. W. Lilliard

the sister got hitched

One week ago today My Darling Husband's sister was married on a bluff overlooking the Tennessee River in Chattanooga, Tennessee.
A Beautiful Southern Belle of a Bride.Please write on the picture frame. More practical than a guest book. (When My Darling Husband and I married, the guests signed a cloth, which I am embroidering and it is destined to become a quilt...very practical indeed.)The Georgian reception hall awaiting guests.These goldfish found their purpose in life: table decoration. Salmon was on the menu.We tried so hard to be secretive, but the bride and groom caught us decorating their getaway car! Apparently they were not blinded by love.

sign of spring #3 or, a tale of three lilacs

Lilacs. The word itself is pretty. Add the delicate yet stable physical beauty and the wonderful scent, and you've got yourself an old-fashioned charmer. They remind me of my childhood...grandparents...playing in Mr. & Mrs. Mace's (elderly neighbors I grew up next door to) yard that had no fence...and like Alicia, the scent reminds me of the Midwest--home.
One set of my grandparents always had a lilac bush or two in their yard (other grandpa would've mowed them down, so other grandma dared not plant any). When we went for a visit, I and/or grandma would cut some lilacs to decorate the house. The lilac bush in the Mace's yard served as a hiding place for frequent games of hide-n-seek with the neighborhood children. Sometimes we would just plop ourselves on the grass or cement wall next to that lilac and pass the time.

The lilac pictured above is compliments of a friend here in The Small Town. I'm currently trying to start a new lilac bush from a cutting off hers. The plan is to plant it near our bedroom window so when we have the window open during lilac season, a west breeze will send the scent into our nostrils at night.

The vase with the lilacs on it is an heirloom from my mother's ceramic-painting days.

The blue lilac in the painting on the wall was done by a friend of my other grandparents some decades ago. So even if other grandma couldn't keep plants alive thanks to other grandpa, at least she could see them on her walls!

purple inside and out or, sign of spring #1

When there is a grape hyacinth bouquet inside our house, that is the signal that My Darling Husband is about to give our lawn it's first mowing of the year. Since I can't have these lovely purple heads just mowed down, I decorate the table with them when he says "it's time to start mowing". There were already some grape hyacinths planted in My Darling Husband's yard when I married him, then I planted more last year. I can see it now: a grape hyacinth and daffodil meadow in our front yard. Grape hyacinths are popular in this neck of the woods. There are many yards in our town where you can see these growing naturalized. Cheri has a lovely landscape photo of grape hyacinths on her blog A Joyful Handmaiden.

swimmin' with the frogs

This was my dream pool (no idea where the photo's from; have had it saved on my computer for a few years, along with other home idea pictures): flowers right up to the water's edge...chairs close by to sink into after a morning swim...clear, blue water.... When I started landscaping plans for our house last year, I envisioned swimming with the scents of roses and lavender wafting by. My Darling Husband had other thoughts--keep the plants as far away from the pool as possible. His reasoning for that makes logical sense, so I've compromised on the landscaping scheme.

Well, at least our chairs are close to the water's edge, and the water becoming clear and blue is not a dream, but reality. It's becoming reality. Cleaning out a (our) pool is arduous labor, especially when that pool is inhabited by the green reptilian set and is as gooey as the bottom of a muddy Midwestern lake. I'd almost rather pay a certain pool company the $1,800 they would charge to clean it. If we had the green monetary set, that is.

Instead we have started the cleaning process ourselves. I must commend My Darling Husband for donning some old clothes and venturing into the murky waters to scoop the goo. I was the one staying (mostly) dry by carting the goo in the wheelbarrow to the compost bin. Little black tadpoles and polliwogs in dark brown leafy goo, and marina stench x 100 = gag me with a spoon...and a fork and knife!

That was yesterday. A big, strong male friend with a stronger countenance than me has offered to help My Darling Husband turn our pond back into the pool it was meant to be. Whew, thank goodness for friends! He can have all the swim time he wants when the pool is ready for occupation by humans.

here, sample this

Did you see Alicia's? Here's my sampler. I'm going to cross-stitch it. I mean, I'll add it to the list of crafty things I want to do. But I will stitch it...perhaps embroider it. Living in a small town means I'm close to the country so I can drive quickly to the rural areas for country inspiration, or walk through town for city inspiration for the sampler. Samplers are so easy to personalize. You can add your initials and date you completed the project, the names of the recipients or images from the life you know.

oh what a beautiful day

Today's 70+ degree (Farenheit) weather...in winter...just begged for picnickers. We obliged.

It was the place to be, for folks of all ages.These tree seed balls reminded me of gum drops on a candy tree. Or glass balls on a Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

There were lots of tykes on bikes. I would be more comfortable allowing children to ride off by themselves here than in The Big City. I know things happen everywhere, but there's less crime to deal with here.

A vintage pathway.

A vintage train.

End of the line for this black beauty.

We even have a small zoo. Very small. The concession prices are small too.

roses are red, roses on blue

Look what I found in the mailbox today:

A Cath Kidston shopping bag from our blogging friend at Vintage Pleasure. I like her blog because we share a penchant for pretty and practical vintage items, she upholds family life in the traditional sense when posting about family, her blog is pleasing to the eye, and well, I have always been an Anglophile.

The bag was made for a good cause. Coincidentally it just happens to be one of my favorite color schemes which is red and light blue together. It's meant to be a shopping bag, but it's my new knitting bag. No more plastic bags from the stores for my knitting.Just in time for knitting group at the library tonight.