rain — Page 20

How Do I Love Thee, New Dawn Rose?

June 2, 2012 at 9:18 am by Claudia

Oh New Dawn climbing rose, I love thee.

Was there ever a flower with such a delicate touch of pink?

It rained very hard here last night and I’m afraid to go out and see the current condition of those beautiful flowers. I can see from the window that the peonies are drooping down to the ground. Hey, rain: I like you and I know we need you, but for the love of all that’s pretty, don’t rain so hard that you ruin my flowers. A gentle rain will do nicely, thank you.

I mowed the back forty and the front lawn yesterday with our push mower. I’m wiped out and my allergies are screaming. (I’m allergic to grass.) But the lawn looks good. Because we live in the country, we don’t have a pristine lawn. It’s a mix of grass, some weeds and some moss. It doesn’t bother me because I’m not one to do all the sorts of stuff you have to do to have a picture-perfect lawn. I also don’t use chemicals on my garden or my lawn. I’d rather it be natural. However, because it is such a mix of green things, it can look ragged pretty fast. Don always looks at me like I’m crazy when I announce it’s time to mow again. But don’t you love that freshly mown look? I do.

It’s my work out. And, since I hate exercising, this seems to be my ‘natural’ form of keeping fit.

Let’s have another look at New Dawn:

Exquisite.

New Dawn, you’re giving my peonies a run for their money. Someday I hope to have you climbing all over the porch rail and up a trellis. I can sit on the glider and drink in your scent. We will take pictures of each other sitting on the glider, reading a good book, surrounded by New Dawn roses. Sigh.

Happy Saturday.

Damp

September 8, 2011 at 9:19 am by Claudia

Someone stop me from screaming. This rain is endless. And I know how much some of you in Texas need it. As usual, the part of the country that doesn’t need rain is getting way too much while there are huge areas that are desperate for the stuff. This morning I woke to torrential rain and a bit more leakage from the chimney. The sump pump is working overtime. The dogs come in from their ‘constitutional’ outside looking like drowned rats. More roads closed. More flooding.

Yesterday in the early morning, I took the car in for its inspection. It passed, thank goodness, but I was given the charming news that ‘your exhaust system will be the next thing to go.’ Thank you, Bill the Mechanic. The Honda CR-V is ten years old, so I guess that is to be expected. I hope our county mobile DMV is on schedule today because I plan our renewing my registration. The mobile DMV is stationed in various small towns throughout the week. Thursday is our day.

Anyway, on the way back from the inspection, I viewed the devastation in our neck of the woods. Flooding everywhere. Crops decimated. Remember these photos from last year at this time?

This whole area – acres and acres of land in what is called ‘the flats’ completely flooded. No corn, dead sunflowers, rotten pumpkins. Water everywhere. It was really shocking to see. Our farmers are really suffering. I live in an area that is very popular in the fall. Pumpkins, apple picking, sweet corn – all of it is essential to our local economy. My complaints seem rather petty when viewing the larger devastation that has been heaped on so many in our area.

Let’s close with a happier scene from the porch last week:

Those are my hot pink garden clogs, by the way. Here’s to dry weather and more time on the porch – soon!

In Need of Sunshine

September 6, 2011 at 5:44 pm by Claudia

Rain, rain, rain. It seems to be raining endlessly here, which is bad news for the already swollen rivers and for those who are still coping with flood damage from Hurricane Irene. So many people in our area have lost so much. One of our friends still does not have power. Another has 3 feet of water in his house. Enough already, please?

I took this photo the other day – you know fall is on the way when the Sedum Autumn Joy starts turning pink. Such gentle splashes of pink all over the garden.

This vine is growing in our back forty. Does anyone know what it is? The leaves are star-shaped with spiky white flowers.

Growing all over the edges of our property – and everywhere else on my travels around the neighborhood.

The day after the hurricane I noticed this spectacular spider web. It’s stretched between two trees in our overgrown back forty. Amazing, isn’t it?

Mom is still in the rehabilitation facility. She is barely speaking to anyone – she says about 10 words to my Dad and my sister and then sends them home. I call her every day and lately I get about 30 seconds of phone time before she cuts me off. She is withdrawing from everyone. She wants to die and she says it fairly often. I wonder if this is her way of pushing us away so she can transition. I don’t know. I only know that my father is heartbroken and that my mom is desperately unhappy and determined to remain that way and that there is nothing but sadness permeating everything.

A little sunshine might help.

How Do I Love Thee, New Dawn Rose?

Damp

In Need of Sunshine

Lambs Like to Party

A Note

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