I am not a “Flower Gay”

I’m more of a dramatic, theatrical, musical gay. Duh.

I am not a flower person. Well, that’s not true. I love lilacs. I love the smell of ’em. And, they remind me of my mother. (Hi Mom!) I do love to get cut flowers. But growing flowers? No. I hate it. I don’t want to weed. I don’t want to water. I don’t want to worry about bugs, or sun, or rain. It’s just not one of my creative interests. I’m sure it comes from having to weed acres and acres of stupid strawberries growing up.

When the Hub and I moved into our house I noted that there were several plots for flowers or shrubs or plants or just areas to “garden” in general. I suggested that we get 10 or so bags of crushed marble rock and fill them in. Easy peasy! But no. Hubby wanted to plant things. Oh, ok. Have fun with that.

And hey – what do you know? He did.

This is our side garden last year. Hubby went for the “wildflower” look. Seriously – he put down fistfuls of seeds.

I kinda expect a miniature Laura Ingalls to come running through these. “Pa! Pa! Mary’s gone blind!!!”

I love the blue-purple color here. Blurple.

Hello! I am a pretty pretty thing!

This year Hubster decided to go a different way, much more structured. It turned out just as nicely.

Those are peonies in the front – Hubby’s favorite flower.

This is a close up of a wild onion that grew beside out house. Better watch out! It’s WILD!

I love the softness of the leaves here. Reminds me of Grady’s ears.

The flower isn’t sweaty, or anything. It had just rained. …Flower-sweat.

But the best part of flowers? When you get huge beautiful bunches of them for your birthday. You don’t have to weed flowers after they’ve been cut…

I got these from Hubby’s Aunt, Uncle and sister. Thank you!

 The Hub picked these flowers out himself, and arranged them in this vase (pronounced vahz). I love that it looks like they are throwing their hands up and yelling “JAZZ!!!”



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