Sitting here missing being surrounded by plants & flowers, as was never true of past, late springtimes. If I blink, it will be mid June, blink twice and the worst of summer will be over.
Short of the few new herbs and the sage & asparagus which has regenerated itself spectacularly since the winter, both window boxes and very many pots & planters remain empty. Even the yard cats seem bored. All that is adding beauty to my outside world are two Plumeria, which in several years have yet to bloom. And I've yet to muster the energy to do anything about any of it.
Shopping and planting is the fun part, and given a good night's sleep and a double decaf cappuccino, I could knock that out this weekend. But it's the every other day watering, now through August, that is just so damn hard in Dallas' summer heat.
Is it still a priority? Obviously not. If I skip this season will I miss the greenness of ferns and the pinkness of petunias when W and I begin to light up Junebug to keep us mosquito-free on rare tolerable days when we take leisure at the big table? Yes, definitely.
So, I guess I will continue to sit and stare, and soon ponder over sips of wine, and at close of night I'll toss it up to The Universe to decide for me. The weekend is sneaking up... Dare I shut my eyes?
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