Sweet living has taken over. Here we are, already deep in fall--girls flicking on the electric heater in the mornings. Sweaters. Red noses at the playground. Stomach bugs. Halloween has come and gone. Silkie chickens live in a box in the dining room. Many babies are coming due . . . How and when did all that happen?
We are ever so much more settled here. The dryness of the air no longer surprises me. I have learned not to touch the prickly pears, even when they look like they won't do me damage. The carpet is wearing at the edges. The bunk beds my sister and I slept in when we were little are now in my daughter's bedroom. My parents have moved ten minutes away--into their own pastoral idyll (slash money-pit and time-occupier).
I can no longer organize my thoughts for long enough to sit here and espouse them . . .
Sweet delicious springtime! Awaiting yet another rain before Easter Sunday. The dark skies make the blossoms everywhere all the brighter. The girls are carousing in the buff again and I will likely not be able to keep them fully dressed again until Thanksgiving.
All of the trees out in the orchard seem to have survived last year's drought and this one's drenching rains. Indian Paintbrushes are in bloom along the walkway.
The sand verbena that I transplanted into the planters off the driveway is taking over. The coral honeysuckle is a parade of neon pinky-red. And the Lady Banks is an avalanche of blossoms outside the kitchen window. This year has flown by thus far, between studying and midwifery and houseguests and the two little entertainers living with us . . . Haven't had time to restore the parts of the garden that were damaged in our couple severe freezes (even snow!!!!! look here):
The oleanders are done for--16 degrees was just a mite cold for them. I will plant Knockout roses (unkillable!) or vitex in their place.
I am a mama, Certified Professional Midwife, dancer/choreographer, gardener, photographer-in-progress, collector, yogi, and lover of the quirky/wild/wierd/wonderful. Myself, two daughters, one dog, two rats, two hamsters, and an ever-changing number of fish reside in an old farmhouse on two limestone-ridden acres in the Hill Country of Central Texas.
My irrational obsessions include: bright blue borage flowers, embroidered pillows, tunics, vintage tablecloths, shoe lasts, rusted iron, my daughter's smile, and the sunshine on my face.