Tag: flowers in bloom

Through the Middle

Standing by the kitchen window, watching the warm breeze move the giant Canna Lily leaves reminds me how life is made up of simple pleasures. A friend sent a Marco Polo asking to see the yard filled with flowers like last year, but this year I see more shade than bloom. I planted flowers late compared to most gardeners, and there’s a late night yard critter plowing their snout through the flower beds. Each morning I’d walk outside to assess how many flowers had been uprooted and cast aside.

This has been going on for months and I’m just trying to pass the test. The mornings are on repeat…put the flowers back in the ground, water them thoroughly, only to find a new path of destruction the next morning. I mentioned to Hercules, “I’m going to summon the cat’s on Third Street to take care of this villainous creature!” We had a good laugh, but then I realized summoning feral cats wouldn’t be a very good example of Spiritual maturity. Here’s a definition I heard recently…

“Spiritual maturity is suffering while waiting patiently with a good attitude while trusting God and continuing to be a blessing to other people.”

Joyce Meyer

We don’t grow when things are good.

This post was started in June when I was in the middle. The middle is when life puts us through the same type test continually with no end in sight, but this did end, and some good came of it, like less flowers to care for. This year I spent 15 minutes every few days caring for the yard, compared to an hour a day, sometimes twice a day, last year. Patience is not only the ability to wait, but how well we wait. The yard looks nothing like I planned, but all of the flowers in pots feed my soul. Keep showing up, expecting the best and make it through the middle.

It’s Own Time

I bought a flat of impatient’s for the flower cart. It surprised the cashier when I sat the entire tray on the counter, and it surprised me too. I didn’t plan on planting many flowers this year, but plans change. The flower cart can hold a flat, or full tray, and they’re beautiful to see, but now I have 48 little impatient’s, patiently waiting to be planted. 😍

My God is sneaky. He knew I wouldn’t be able to look at an empty flower cart for long.


This week, I rearranged my bedroom, and moving the bed is always an adventure. It was pretty dusty under there, and I’ve written about it here. My daughter and I each have a long, rolling storage container for off season clothing under the bed. They had sat side by side with a small gap in between and captured all of the cat’s jingle balls. That’s a score!

Once the bed was moved, I had a semi empty wall. The artwork looked scattered, so I moved two pieces to fill the empty spaces. It all lined up perfectly, so I could see that was not my doing. On my best day I couldn’t do that, without scattering holes over the wall. This was seamless and took no effort. It’s like they’re resting on an invisible wall length shelf.

Local artist Rachel Brown. 💖

The wall of art gives an immediate feeling of calm and centered. I could add more art above this row, but that’s how it is with me. God lays it out perfectly, and I want to tweak it, but this time there’s nothing to tweak. And Dawn, when you read this you’ll know, the wall of art we spoke about in our letters, fell into place all in it’s own time.

From the post, ‘Just Say Yes.‘ Artist ~ Mrs. M

The Extra Mile

Walking to a neighbors house, I saw another neighbor who asked, “Walking down to the lake?” I replied, “No sir, I’m going to get fresh eggs.” He looked rather puzzled and replied, “You need a golf cart to scoot around in. It’s easier.” I just ginned and said, “But Dan, I don’t do easy.” He chuckled.

My daughter brought home flowers and it was the most magical bouquet I’d seen in years. They were freshly cut, wrapped in brown paper and when she handed them to me I could feel the weight of them. There was a florist card laying inside I didn’t recognize, so she went on to reveal the whole story.

She had stopped at the market I frequent for flowers, but didn’t see anything that spoke to her, so on she went to a flower shop she knew I loved. The lady inside told her to walk into the cooler and pick out what she wanted. I can imagine the look on my daughters face walking into a cooler filled with flowers. I’m sure it was overwhelming in the most delightful way.

She chose a few of my utmost favorites. A couple of long-stemmed roses, daylilies, a few gladiolas, and the most ginormous hydrangea blossom known to man. She remembered I like greenery to be used as filler.

She was holding a paper bag from the market as well with chocolate cold brew and Brie en Croute. You see, she just wanted to stop time that day amidst our schedules and celebrate her sober Mom. It was my AA birthday, and I don’t very cry often, but with all of this the tears were near.

I’m sure there’s a much easier way to buy flowers, but my darling, fill it with meaning and go the extra mile.

Let Them Be

My mantra for the past couple of weeks has been, “Let life come to me.” Probably because I had a lot of life come to me in August, but obviously none of it was detrimental to my well-being because I’m still happy with life.

This week, I noticed these little imposters popping up everywhere in two of my flower beds. I didn’t plant them and actually found them hidden underneath what I had planted in May. They must have been planted before we moved here, and sorta recall seeing them last year. They’re thriving under the care of the flowers looming over them and multiplied wherever they fancied.

I saw these bunched up by the fence and tried to help them. Using a spade, I dug a few of them up and moved them over to the right of the bed in an open area, thinking they’d be happier with more space. It’s been several days now of watering them and they don’t look all that happy.

My friend Kat wrote about being tired of continual efforting. You can read her post here and I see you Kat. Let life come to me and know when to let them be.

Strength and Beauty

One of my daughter’s favorite things in our yard is something I didn’t plant. It was here when we moved in, and it survived this year’s snow and ice storm. I began pampering it in March, and have paid attention to it along with all the other plants and shrubs. It bloomed the first of June, but the blooms are now fading.

It’s a young Crepe Myrtle, and I’m thrilled it bloomed this year. Being young it’s resilient, and hasn’t stood here long enough to toughen up, but it will.

It was early morning and the rain had stopped leaving it partly cloudy. The sun was trying it’s best to break through and claim the day. I headed out the door for a walk through the neighborhood, letting my feet lead the way with no certain route in mind.

I turned on one of my favorite streets, and luckily had my phone in my pocket to capture this picture. As I stood there in awe, I wondered how long this Crepe Myrtle has been standing here. It’s a tree that calls for you to sit a spell and listen for it’s stories.

After taking this photo, I continued my walk and it began to rain. It wasn’t heavy, just a fine mist that felt good to my skin. I wondered how much rain that Crepe Myrtle has stood through. My guess would be enough to reach it’s roots, because that’s what it takes to grow in strength and beauty.