There are so many roses blooming that I just had to pick some and bring them in. They are the old-fashioned kind of roses, soft and sweet as your granny's bosom and I have put these in the kitchen because I will smell them fifty times a day.
I am a hunting widow again but as we all know, this is not something that disturbs me much. My time flows with the day, and I do a little of this and a little of that, considering what would make me happiest. Not that I always do what would make me happiest but I do some of that.
Today I worked outside for awhile, doing actual and real yard work. I pruned back two roses that haven't bloomed in a year because they're in shade, and pulled the border grass threatening to encroach them. I need to move those roses to somewhere a little bit less shady and plant something more apt to thrive there.
Then I attacked the sago palms in front of the front porch which is an easy job but a dangerous one as the fronds are needled and come each with their own dose of mild toxin. But it didn't take me long and I managed not to get myself pierced by one of the poison darts.
It does not look like winter here, does it?
I still have not had the heart to pull my pepper plants. These are just a small percentage of the peppers growing now.
It has been warmer today but it's supposed to get a little cooler this week. Such weird weather. My arugula, beautiful and healthy and the object of my love and desire (culinarily speaking, of course) looks to be in the process of bolting which I have been fearing the greens would do. But still, the garden looks pretty, although it is relatively sparsely planted.
Plenty of greens for us.
Food for the soul and the body.
I have washed the lettuces twice and they are wrapped tenderly in a kitchen towel in the refrigerator now, waiting to be made into salads. As for the roses- well, you know.
It wasn't just roses and salad greens I picked today though.
The heavy-headed beauty of the camellias thrills me. It just does. And I do not become jaded about it.
Each and every blossom I bring in is appreciated and admired and enjoyed just as is each and every bite of salad I eat from our winter garden, slicked a tiny bit with olive oil, sweetened by a splash of balsamic, seasoned with nothing but salt, pepper, and fresh garlic, peeled and pressed.
I think I'm hungry now.