He didn't know I was behind him.   I didn't say a word.  I  just took this picture and left him to his own moment.



Just lately, there seems to be an explosion in the yard.  Flowers and vegetables and figs and pears, honeysuckle and re-blooming azaleas are all in bloom.   Everyday I'm thrilled the minute I walk outside.  The sun too is amazing here.  It's huge and hot and steamy.  So I start my days even earlier now, earlier than sunrise.  By the little night lights in the gardens, I fumbled around with the hoses and watering cans, prepping early so when everything awakens and the first slice of light cuts across the yard, I can water the flowers and new plants without bother from the heat.  And at night, after the sun sets over the pecan tree fence, they get a little more water to help them through the steamy night.  
Things are growing better than I expected.  I am used to dark soil and the smell of worms, not red clay and rocks.  So I find myself always asking the old-timers what their secrets are.  It's amusing to hear their stories, and not just the gardening ones.  I think for now though I'll stick with sun, water and hopes.  :)
I was invited to a garden party last week.  Oh, it was exactly like I would have pictured a southern ladies garden party to be like, a little formal, very proper, sundresses, finger sandwiches and mimosas in the afternoon.  I was the only one without a hat, but I assure you that won't happen again.  I brought a mini herb garden to exchange and it was the hit of the party.  I'm forever thankful to my mother for that suggestion.  I was so grateful for the invitation and the chance to spend the afternoon with the ladies in town.  It really helped with the little bit of homesickness that still lingers every once in a while. 
So life continues to be all about the gardens these days, at least it is in the wee hours of the morning, at dusk when the creek frogs start croaking and an afternoon here and there with new friends.   
I do hope your days are also filled with the things you want and love.   ♥
p.s.  I started an Instagram account.  Not to replace One Day, but a space for more creativity.  And, I guess, for anyone who might be interested in what I share during the in-between times of posting here.  If by chance, you are interested, the link is at the bottom of the page.  



Figuratively and literally, we've been forging new paths as we settle more into this town.  Every morning when the sun comes up and before it starts blazing, I'm in the yard digging up old bricks and placing them in piles around the yard.  Some have sunk deep into the earth, already laying in perfect old paths.  It only seems right to leave some where they once were, but I need many to make our new paths, the one to the garden, to the back porch, to the soon-to-be greenhouse, to the arbor and to the ivy garden. Sometimes I feel like I'm stumbling around this yard, falling over good ideas and hopes and promises. Thank goodness though that all that stumbling is a true pleasure.  
While magical beautiful things are happening in our hidden away corner of town, there does seem to be a bit of a learning curve in how one, especially a new one, adjusts to the status quo of a town drenched in history and family and rules.  The people here amaze me daily with their kindness and gentleness, but their kindness, for some, doesn't necessarily mean acceptance. It's much different than living in a big city where sometimes you have to be loud just to be barely heard.  We're slowing learning the rules and what gets us where. 
I think maybe it's true that good things come to those who wait, to those who are patient and understanding, who dig up the bricks if only to lay them back in the same spot and to those who seek acceptance from others with open hearts and open minds.  There's so many good things here that hopefully we master that learning curve within no time.
It's raining this morning.  I'm thankful for the reprieve from the sun, but wishing it would clear up soon, for there's many more bricks to find.     




My hands and eyes are tired as I write this and my cheeks are a deep shade of pinker this morning. My hair is wild from a late night shower and falling into bed too drained to dry off. Garden shoes, gloves, my apron and dirty clothes are laying in a pile in the hallway. There are pots and plants, bags of dirt, a shovel, a rake and rocks strewn on the back deck. Next to me are seed packets and catalogues, a list I wrote yesterday of new ones to try. A pile of logs from a tree we cut down is stacked at the bottom of the stairs, waiting to be assembled into a trellis. 
All evidence of a good dream coming true, the gardens, the flowers, the open spaces, and yes, even being out there in my nightgown. We discovered a mulberry bush, the pear tree is filled with little fruit, the fig tree is blooming, rose bushes have opened and the delightful scent that fills the rooms when the windows are open is honeysuckle.  I have honeysuckle!  Everything good and pure and natural is right outside my door.  And the one thing that I'm so tickled about....that first hydrangea bloom.  I have honeysuckle and hydrangeas!  I'm sore and tired and sunburnt, but I couldn't be happier, you'll find me out there again today.  
I'm sending you my first bloom Jane.  Have a wonderful day, lovely friends. ♥