Weed Or Not

I listened to many of you and abstained from pulling up plants I did not know about.  It is hard when they are small and not identifiable. This beauty is a moon flower and has a lovely scent, but even better, it blooms throughout the summer and early fall.  Nearly the size of a plate, the large plant is covered in these flowers that only open at night.  I took this shot on a cloudy, early morn.  It is also called Angel's Trumpet.

I don't know what this shrub is, but there are several in the gardens and it is very pretty.

This little garden is off the patio next  to my bedroom on the upper level of the back yard.  There is about an 8 foot drop down to the lower level of yard and gardens that slopes down to the lake.  I have to be careful not to roll down the slope.

Remember those teeny goslings a couple of months ago?

What big babies they have become.  Nearly as large as their parents though they still have downy patches. Eat like little goats.  Quite friendly and unafraid, though I'd prefer they stay in the lake and not on my lawn.

These small doves come to eat seed on my windowsills and are very friendly.  All the wildlife seem to be used to humans, unlike their country counterparts. Many kinds of birds.

And here are my new pretties.  The garden center said they were chimes.  What?  Glass balls?  I only bought one, but had to go back the next day for two more.  Rule of threes?  Odd numbers more pleasing or the symmetry?  Can't remember.

Off the subject, but since I always tell you I never learn, well, I passed on this large zeppelin though it pained me to do so.  It is only the second one I have ever seen and I have always wanted one.  They would only come down 10% and I choked at the price.  So, maybe I shouldn't pat myself on the back.  I would have bought it for the right price.  Sigh.

Porch Sitting

You might like to hear this song whilst imagining me sitting on the porch.  And no, it isn't me playing my ukulele just a good porch sitting song.



I have had porches these last decades, but none were covered.  This one is covered and has a ceiling fan and I can tell you, I spend much of my time at the city house communing with nature and watching the lake and garden happenings from my back porch.  Just my favorite spot.  The house was  intentionally situated closer
 to the lake so the neighbors aren't easily visible.

Whereas front porches were mandatory in the past, it seems back porches are used more often now.

I went out the other morning early, with just shorts and a tee shirt, no bra as who would be around this early.  With my trusty spade and plants, I began digging holes.  HELLO!
Yes, a neighbor caught me outside unawares.  I have met them once and hadn't even brushed my hair. That never happens in the country where one can walk around naked if so inclined.

Some time later in the day, I still hadn't showered as I wanted to finish dirty work in the garage and outside, so I crept out front around the side of the house to dig up two tomato plants I decided to re-locate.  Bent over and looking like hell, HELLO!  Out in the open and nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.  I tried to cover up the front of my bust with dirt and plants in hand.  Sigh.



Guess this will be me in a few years.  Not much privacy in the city, but I sure do love my porch.

West Wind

There is a west wind today.  Love its gentle breezes. It looks like it is snowing outside.  I counted 12 cottonwood trees around our little lake.  Why would they plant those in the city?  I've always heard they should only be planted in the country which is in evidence this week.  There are two huge ones in our backyard. The pips are floating everywhere, in the lake, the gardens and yards and we'll have to pull the housing off the air conditioner to hose it out of there.    

In Greek mythology, Zephyrus was the bringer of the west wind (usually a gentle breeze).  So unusual in OK as the wind is legend here.  

I always sang the song They Call The Wind Mariah to my babies when they were small.  It was part of my repertoire to get them to sleep at nap and bedtime. Written by Alan J. Lerner, it was a cowboy kind of song; gold prospectors longing and wistful for home.  Also sang Where Does The Wind Come From.  It's another campfire song and I was a Camp Fire Girl once.  Guess that is where the tunes came from.



This little leaf bract contains a millionbillion tiny cotton bolls, each holding a seed.

Enjoy your mother's day weekend.

Theory Of Donnativity

Morning has broken.  I am become philosophic.  Problem is, I can't remember, which is funny - kind of.  Since the short term memory is the first to go, I don't know why I can scarcely remember the long ago Theory Of Donnativity.  That's what my kids deemed it.

It had something to do with all of our interconnectedness - like a web.  About how change is good: the unknown being fresh and new as opposed to the known, which is stale and old.  Stasis.

Now I know some of you cling to what is known (or as I used to tell my children, that it would be a boring world if we were all alike).  My own husband simply cannot deal with change; cleaves to the past with all his being.  I, on the other hand, eschew the past, only want to see what's to come as I move forward in life.  I don't know why I am like that.  I associate it with my curiosity, but that is just my take.  Whatever....

So, I took this picture on the patio one morning.  The remembrance of that theory came up (or I should say the inability to remember it).  None of it really matters anyway.  So, I looked up some quotes about spiderwebs.  Seems like many of the great writers were interested in spiderwebs too.  Virginia Woolf.  Henry James.  Who'd a thunk?  Here were a few of my favorites.

Man did not weave the web of life.

He is merely a strand in it.

Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

Chief Seattle

"'Why did you do all this for me?' he asked. 'I don't deserve it.  I've never done anything for you.'

'You have been my friend', replied Charlotte.  'That in itself is a tremendous thing.'"

Charlotte's Web

"O what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive".

Sir Walter Scott

"Poetry is a fresh morning spider-web

telling a story of moonlit hours 

of weaving and waiting during a night."

Carl Sandburg

Hope this first day of May is a splendid one for you.