A blooming madness

This time of the year it is not so much that I have a garden as it is that the garden has me. I am sore from all the rock hauling and pruning and digging and planting. Every year about this time I start to doubt that it will happen--that day in July when the earth is still and the flowers dance like fairies.

I don't have much spring flowers. Usually by the time fall comes around, I am sick of planting, so the bulbs don't go in. I did, however, plant Roger some purple tulips, and they are gorgeous. This was to apologize to him for what I will call The Great Henhouse Cleaning Rage. In short, I had a day where I was so mad at him for smoking so much and leaving me and dying. Also a day where the hen house needed a good cleaning. And yeah, well, I dumped the chicken crap all over the grave site where his ashes are buried. Then I felt bad and cried and called his mom, and she laughed and said, "its ok, honey, he could be a real little shit sometimes, we all know that."

And now, probably because of the chicken stuff and my rage, the tulips are beautiful.

I wish all my rages worked out so well. A blooming madness, I tell you.

more projects

A five dollar bed frame taken apart, the headboard sawed off on one side, and the other side settled into a pipe in the ground. Jim's find and idea, makes a handy gate.



The dry creek bed made from rocks hauled from a construction site. Thank goodness for new wheelbarrows.

Projects...

Never bored around here at Casa Brittanicals. The garden needs attention. She is such a Prima Donna. And a 50 dollar Craigslist find-- French doors. Add a Home Depot framing kit and its the perfect solution to kittie's on the kitchen counter.

Now Slippers thinks she is a hen...

She sneaks into the hen house whenever we leave the door open. This is what we found yesterday when we went looking for eggs...