It’s the smell of dirt and plants and moistness that gets me…
Every year for several years my mother and I have gone to the Portland Flower Show. Well, except when it switched to Scarborough Downs, ’cause Boo, that sucked. For some reason (horrible long snowy winter of death) I was especially looking forward to the glimpse of Spring that the show affords this year. We managed to find the time in our schedules to go on Saturday. Happily, they held it in the old warehouse where they have always done it before the silly and short lived Scarborough Downs fiasco. It was dirty and crowded and perfect.
Imagine me trying to get this picture while thousands of people were walking over this sign. It’s just a projection of light on the floor. Hey! Little girl! MOVE IT! Oh, stop crying.
Awesome old warehouse. I love how they set up all of the displays like a small stage set. And see? The lady in front of me is showing her husband (I’ll call him Carl) how great it all is. She (Gladys) can’t contain herself. She throws her hand in the air in jubilation. Reign it in, Gladys.
It’s amazing what they haul into this show for 4 days, only to haul it all out again. Amazing and gorgeous. I want this in my backyard, as opposed to the stagnant pond of death that my stoopid neighbor’s sump-pump provides me.
I could totally make this. I’m all up in that crafty rock stuff.
It’s a Gnome door! I want one! (Hub is now rolling his eyes and saying “Of course he does” before ushering a long suffering sigh.)
It always seems so quaint to have beautiful furniture outdoors next to a small waterfall. In reality this chair would just get really wet and moldy. But can’t you imagine yourself sitting there, reading a book in the late summer afternoon, sipping on some gin and juice?
Who wouldn’t want to paint in this setting?
These are the famous forest-fishes of Washington, Maine. On moonless nights usually in May you can sometimes see them slipping in and out of the brush in the deep Maine woods. You have to be very quiet as they scare easily.
My moss is all randomy. I wish I could be a harsh enough landscaper to get my moss in straight lines.
Mom said that this reminded her of Aslan’s table. …That he was slain on. Ew, Mom. Please note the random lady investigating the underneath.
Rock-birds. Found in the same woods as the forest fishes. No wings, as they are too heavy to fly. But don’t try to catch one! They are fierce fighters. I saw a woman almost lose an eye at the Flower Show when she grabbed one.
I went home with this birdhouse on a stick. I am strangely fascinated with small houses. It’s a quirk.
Mom and I had a great time at the show. It’s always nice to hang with Mumsy. You moms who have straight sons just don’t get it. Gay sons rock!
Ah, Spring. I can hear you calling!