I finally find myself in the place that inspired this blog, alone. Well... sort of. The closest thing I get to it these days - the littlest is cooing to sleep and the eldest is flip flopping to sleep, but still the beer is cracked and Kenny is gone. I'd prefer it if he where home or at least on his way home to eat the disastrous flop of food on the table. Ida declared it, "Yuck," and really she was right. Ah well, I could not pulverize last weeks rataouille and convince her it was pizza sauce, BUT
we can make apple pie filling with sugar and white wine.
This Salvia is taking her sweet time too.
It has taken years for me to relinquish the land to any plant that did not bare an edible fruit, but now the front yard, with the exception of the Gravenstein Apple and the Persimmon, is all flowering natives. Given our luck with the food crops this year I am thankful for this beauty.
And here makes a widow...