Monthly Archives: June 2016

Enter the Rose

Rose Campion, that is. Also known by common names “Dusty Miller” or “Mullein Pink.”  Glorious and everywhere in the gardens this summer, this picture doesn’t do them any justice. Good morning, lovely gardens!

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Kennebec Garden Bliss

It’s 5:00 a.m. and I want to be in my garden.  Weed one little overgrown patch, stick in a few marigolds for color while I wait for some blooms, and then water the parched soil.  It’s a blissful way to … Continue reading

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I Could Write a Book

Sometimes, it’s hard for me to believe I’ve been writing this blog since 2012.  I’ve written over one thousand (1,000) posts.  It seems like such a lot, although my brother has been at this blogging thing for much longer than … Continue reading

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The Sundrops

I’m not sure why I thought these flowers were “primroses.” They’re “sundrops” and there’s a difference. There’s a difference.

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The Ability to Restrain

Do you have it?  That ability to restrain yourself from reacting in the heat of the moment?  Do you let emotions overtake you?  As I look out over the raging digital world this morning, I read many things.  Some begin … Continue reading

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Living Like Tourists

Last night was my third trip to the elbow of New England in less than a week.  Is Portsmouth the “elbow” of New England?  I don’t know; I just made that up.  Maybe it’s the wrist, but it’s the place … Continue reading

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Hosta Negotiations

Oh wait, you were looking for “hostage negotiations?”  Sorry about that. Carry on.

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Enter the Rain

The rain New England gardens needed finally arrived on Sunday afternoon.  During the week, there had been a suggestion of it; a hint of precipitation and the ambivalent weather puppet “partly cloudy with a chance of showers.” It was touch … Continue reading

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Eating Bad Yogurt

Many years ago, I got a handwritten letter from a friend.  Wait, if I’m honest with myself and with my blog readers, it was probably a decade or two ago.  My friend glued a picture on the letter, a picture … Continue reading

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Counting Sheep

Or goats, if you prefer. It’s good to escape to the country every once in a while.

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