One day I would like to get in the habit of taking pictures. It's not something I do automatically. But I've noticed how much I enjoy blogs with nice photography. I love seeing people's quilts and socks and flowers. It makes me want to have a prettier life. I like pretty. I'm 46 years old and I think I can finally admit that.
Above: my marigolds. I never knew marigolds could be fabulous until I planted them from seed. It was Will's idea. He loves anything orange. He saw the picture in the Johnny's seed catalog year before last, and here we are. Marigolds are annuals, but the ones we grew last year were seed producers like nobody's business and replanted themselves.
When we've planned our gardens in the past, we've always focused on vegetables. But this year I realized I want to be a flower gardener. I like to eat vegetables from our garden, but I'll let the Man be in charge of those. When I'm 80, I'm going to be one of those old ladies who knows the Latin name for everything. My whole yard will be flowers. Who needs grass? Not me.
Jack did drama camp this week. The performance was yesterday. They put posters all over the empty hallways of Our Fine School. I was glad Jack picked drama camp. When I lived in Killeen, Texas, we had an amazing community theater, and for several years running I was in the summer productions. Always small roles, but that didn't matter. Being part of a big group of extroverts--especially when you're an introvert--is amazingly fun. Come on, kids, let put on a show!
We're off to the mountains for a few days. I'll take the camera. See you when I get back!
I'm a writer and a stay-at-home mom who keeps meaning to mop the floors because I think it would make me happy if I did. I love books and music and writing, spend entirely too much time in the dentist's chair (I bet I have more crowns than you do), and used to think I was sort of bohemian, but now I wonder. No tattoos. Minivan. That story.