Bonkers about Botany

"You might not make it home"

That statement, as alarming as it is, was uttered to me twice this week. First with my car's brake fiasco (which was fixed to the bear minimum for a pretty penny), and secondly yesterday when I took Jason's Subaru (the so-thought more reliable car we own) to the grocery store and the battery didn't start. And, since I had taken both keys to my car (why? Don't ask) Jason couldn't have come to rescue me. Thank goodness for AAA. So, I sat outside in my favorite kind of day - that crisp but still warm late-evening sun fall type of day - and waited for AAA while hoping the shrimp I just bought weren't going to go rancid.

45 minutes later: the alternator is bad. You know, I complained earlier about going into the car places and getting taken advantage of, but after all these encounters this week, that might just be changing. So, my husband being the resourceful jack-of-all-trades kinda guy he is + the wonderful internet = a fixed alternator and battery in oh...an hour. tops. amazing!

However, let me not lead you down the wrong path to thinking this day was in any way not good. In fact, it was the most perfect day and weather I could have asked for. I spent the first part of the morning cleaning and moping my house to death, which is so satisfying I can't even begin to tell you. Then I met my dear friend Candace for lunch and plant shopping in a nursery. Oh, it was so delightful! The perfect day, the perfect surroundings.

There is something about these living things we call plants that speak to my soul like nothing else does. They are little beautiful worlds unto themselves that teach me so much about life, patience, beauty, and myself.


This last one is going in my art studio on top of a cute little table I'm painting orange. Pictures will surely come later.

Adieu, my little elves. I'm off to more gardening and I think I see the blue sky coming out. Hope with me for another brilliant fall day.

"O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained with the blood of grapes,
pass not, but sit beneath my shady roof; there thou may'st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe;
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruit and flowers."
-William Blake.