Oddly enough, my blog title was going to be Thanks. This time of year is really my very favorite around my yard. My flowers love springtime in Georgia. So does my lawn. Even though it begs to be watered and wants trimming every week, which my husband lovingly obliges.
Today I wanted to say THANK YOU to special people who shared their flowers with me over the years. They now make my yard so pretty, which makes me so very, very happy and always bring back wonderful memories.
Thank you, MaMa Kimball, for this beautiful lamb's ear. I can see them growing all over your yard. Wherever the wind blew a seed, the next year a sweet lamb's ear would be growing. Thank you for showing me that a "lady" can get her hands dirty digging in the dirt. What would I give to sit on your porch or walk around your yard with you, you carrying your "grubbing hoe." I miss you. Thank you for sharing your lamb's ear with me. They're beautiful this spring.
Thank you MaMa Howell. These hen and chicks came from her plant, through my Aunt Theresa. They grow where nothing else will grow and require very little attention. And to me, that's kinda the way MaMa Howell was. She shared and gave, and asked very little in return. I'd sure love to sit on your front porch with you again, you in your rocker, rocking the special way that I remember. Thanks for my hen and chicks. As you can see, MaMa, they're doing so well. I've planted them in a strawberry pot and placed it in my rock garden. That's the hottest, dryest place in my yard. They thrive there.
Thanks, mom, for the pot of ivy. It has completely taken over the area around our swing. It's lovely and so cottagey. The ivy, too, likes to be left alone. Doesn't ask for much attention, but spreads and shares its beauty. To me, ivy is a little comforting. I think that's why it's so cottagey-feeling. And what's more comforting than your mom? Thank you, mama, for giving me the everlasting gift of comfort. In winter, spring, summer and fall, the ivy grows.
A few years ago, Jean gave me a few hostas. She hates waste and wanted to share the glory of these sweet plants. Thank you, Jean. They have multiplied and multiplied and multiplied. I have worked in them some this year and prettied up the spot they're in. If the deer and rabbits don't eat them, they'll be very pretty. I guess the deer and rabbits know you don't like waste. They figure a green, tender hosta would be a terrible thing to waste.
Thanks, sweet Auntie Theresa, for this little flower. Theresa gave me several different kinds of plants a couple of years ago. This one and the hen and chicks are the only ones to have survived. This plant is just like Theresa. Always there. Winter, summer, spring and fall. Always. There. Thank you, Theresa. I planted some begonias and some other things along with it to keep this little cutie company.
Thanks great-Aunt Louise, for my prized hydrangea bush. She shared with me a cutting and I brought it home and planted it. I didn't really know if it would grow and I certainly didn't know how big it would grow. It grew huge. I separated it and planted another cutting and it, too, is growing huge. And beautiful. I love my hydrangeas very much.
My sweet neighbor growing up, Ms. Roberts, who passed away a short while back, always had the yard of my dreams. Flowers, ivy, a small fish pond, lovely pavers for her little patio, an outdoor brick grill, pretty wrought iron benches inviting you to sit in the shade. It looked like a yard from an English cottage. Several years ago, she gave me a cutting of this oak leaf hydrangea. I planted it alongside our swing. It grows with the ivy and looks so nice. Thank you, Ms. Roberts. It's got lots of blooms on it and they stand so majestic and strong. They make nice arrangements to take inside.
Coincidence that these plants have a likeness to the sweet women who gave them to me? Coincidence that this blog came to my mind just days before Mother's Day? I think not. What do you think?
Till next time...