Blooming:
Good to know the bugs are already eating the hosta and coneflower leaves.
What can you do? Nothing. This garden is pesticide-free.
I went to the shop to get the dove. And only the dove.
As you can see, this dove is very different. Rustic, bits of stones showing, a faint trace of the paint, much more weathered. He’s a bit smaller, as well.
I think he’s lovely.
Reunited. Or forcefully mated by yours truly.
Anyway. My intentions were honorable. Get the dove. Say hello to everyone. Then head home.
Instead, I came home with this:
An old street sign from Woodstock, NY.
How could I leave it there?
I’m not sure where it’s going to live. Right now it’s in a garden bed. But I’m sure I’ll move it around today.
And that’s not all. I saw this and I swear I heard angels singing:
Oh my heavens. This is the kind of thing I dream of but never find. But I did find it! I think it was there all along but I was so obsessed with the pots that I didn’t see it.
Where will I put it? I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m just thrilled it’s ours.
I can’t go back to that shop for a while. Three trips in two weeks and major damage done every time.
It’s a beautiful morning and I’ve been sitting outside on the glider. It will turn into a hot and humid day, however, just like yesterday when the temperature reached 89 degrees with high humidity. Wildly uncomfortable.
Then rain tomorrow.
But for now, I’m going to enjoy the porch while I can.
Happy Saturday.
