The top request I heard on tour was to blog daily. So I'm pledging to try.
Sometimes the posts will be photo-heavy.
I was bummed when we didn't have a white Christmas this year. Yet the mild winter temps did wonders for my garden and it's been exploding with color for more than a month. We already had crocuses, daffodils, tulips, irises, lilacs, lilies of the valley, and some serious fruit tree blossom action.
Well played, hateful crab apple. You may live to see another year.
I think these are my Betty White floribunda. (Don't quote me on that.) I got them last year and they bloomed late and when they finally did, I was charmed. Then, suddenly she was freaking EVERYWHERE, like to the point of taking over their whole corner of the garden, muscling all the other roses out of her sunlight, spewing frowzy, floppy petals in her wake, so much so that I began to wish that Betty White would just go away.
The solid, respectable, upstanding red roses in the center are Mr. Lincoln. He forms huge, perfect, velvet blossoms that are so heavy with fragrance that I can't help but cut him down in his prime and bring him inside.
I don't know what variety these yellow roses are but they're already out in full force, far ahead of the rest of the pack. They've got a real Texas vibe, though, don't they?
Not sure what this one is either, but I love the gradient color and that it smells as gorgeous as it looks.
Technically, not roses, but I like these peonies just as much, maybe even more so because they're fleeting. And they're not yet swarming with ants, which is a huge bonus. Also, because I take shit photographs with no true sense of perspective, you can't tell that this bush is the approximate size of a 1952 DeSoto.
And last - here's everything I've cut in the past two days. The kitchen smells like a funeral home, and I mean that in the best possible way. I'm one of those people who always has flowers in the house and I love May - October when it all comes from my yard.
Of course, half of these displays have already been knocked over because the stupid Thundercats prefer to take their water from the vase, rather than from their bowl.
"Pfft. Take a picture, asshole. It'll last longer."