I decided to take a little break and head outside to the garden to see what was flowering.



Another reason was to get away from a few paint fumes. My rather worn French door, which leads to the side door and basement of my home, needed some refreshing. I painted the door jamb as well, which only accentuates the woebegone state of the stairwell. Here's hoping the door will easily close and isn't "overdressed" with a new coat of primer and two of paint.






It's time to clean up the paint cans, brushes, and drop cloths and restore some order. This would not be the time for an unexpected guest to pop by, with the exception of you, of course!



I'm linking with Mary for "Mosaic Monday".

There are times when the pleasure and romance of a garden is put aside and its maintenance becomes a beast that growls or whines to get one's attention. This morning, although hot, was the time to do a bit of overdue weeding, deadheading, lawn-mowing and so forth. Not all of it, mind you, just some.

Sharp weeding tool in hand, I thought about the British mysteries I occasionally read (a memory instigated by my murderous thoughts regarding the unwelcome vegetation, I suspect).

For a little light reading, I'll sometimes indulge in a "cozy". Picture, for example, a single, middle-aged, female protagonist who has "a man" come to do the digging and repairs. She may even have a woman "to do" for her, not everything, perhaps the "deep cleaning" in her impossibly-charmingly-thatched-cottage. (I'd be just as happy with a woman doing the maintenance and the man deep-cleaning; my daydreams are equal opportunity employers.)


You know, the kind of home that has a name like "Rose Cottage" with a little stone wall and a cat or two snoozing by the hearth or purring contentedly in the garden.  

The only thing marring this idyllic scene is the certitude that at least one pesky corpse would be discovered amongst the hollyhocks, in the hedgerow, or some such similar place.)




I could keep searching for the elusive house, not quite as little as my current one, and hire out some jobs...like shoveling snow or cutting the grass.

Yesterday, I posted a photo of one of my clematises.  This is another one that I have, planted last year.  I must say, it thrives on neglect! It may sound rather negligently optimistic of me, but I want the beauty of a garden, without spending hours and hours tending it.

This spring, I attacked various small garden plots that were on the verge of being completely reclaimed by the wicked weeds of the wilderness.  Strange little things that spread underground, sprang out of nowhere, and threatened to reach up and swallow the entire neighbourhood.  Well, perhaps that is overstating things, but you get the idea.

I admire the organized gardener, the one who knows exactly what to do and when to do it.  Sigh.  That isn't me.  However, some plants are blooming, others will follow, and that is enough. Thank you for taking the time to visit!

It's a sun-shiny morning here, enough to induce me to get out the door and off on a little walk around the neighbourhood. I've turned into a bit of a slug in the area of physical fitness and could use a little external push to get moving. Alternatively, can I kick myself on my own backside?

Actually, the walk was enjoyable and I do enjoy a good snoop, as far as getting a look at some front yard gardens. No binoculars, black catsuits, or cameras were involved, mustn't frighten the flora-lovers!

This yellow flower lives in my own back garden. I bought the plant at a horticultural club plant sale in May (maybe I should join) and can't recall its name. Do you know what it is, please?

Enjoy your day.

It's a gorgeous Sunday morning in my little corner of the world, perfect for a snoop around the back garden. I planted this poppy years ago and it stands a couple of feet high, from soil to flower. Looking into the centre of one blossom shows its remarkable symmetry. Looking inward is something I tend to engage in on a Sunday. Hmmm. A bit of symmetry between the poppy and yours truly, perhaps...