Earl Grey and I, Earl with his bergamot flavor, enjoyed our devotional time together this morning. For a different experience, we moved from my comfy library to the dining room which I call my sun room because Craig designed nine windows on three sides.
You know the wonderful view I see from my library window, but I neglected to share with you this view of the back garden. We can sit and enjoy my bouquet of roses displayed on the table, the last picking for the season, sad to say. This Caribbean rose has a mild scent. I love the apricot color; some people label the shade a cantaloupe orange. Sounds pretty enough to eat, right? I chose this flower for my memorial service folder. My friend Jean took a beautiful picture of this rose years ago. I didn't tell her I saved the picture for that purpose.
This morning, the azure blue above hid behind a low blanket of fog, but I see promise of a bright clear day to the east; especially if the ducks and beavers both win their football games tonight.
My dining room resembles a indoor blooming garden—orange lipstick plant, purple African violets, fuchsia colored cyclamen. Since never remember the name cyclamen, I keep the tag in the pot, on the back side of course, so not to detract from the colorful plant.
As I enjoy this morning view, I see two burning bushes looking fiery red. The plant displays a bright red glow for several weeks, then goes naked as the leaves drop off.
Purple asters peek from behind lavender Russian sage. I love this type of sage because its silver leaves and stems show all winter long. I only wish they stood up straight on their own. Any suggestions?
The snowball bush, as tall as a tree, turns red this time of the year. A few persistent white balls hang in there to the end which reminds me of another promise of spring.
An old, rusty bathtub full of small hardy geraniums sits behind the hardy ferns my husband brought home from the forest. Oh, oh, that shovel work might register as illegal now.
One of my favorite garden arts peeks out under our fifty-four year old grape arbor. The crop doesn't appear large enough to make grape juice this year. The Lord already knew my freezer hides too many full juice jars from yesteryear. I believe you gals know what I mean—out of sight, out of mind.
I also see the Mexican orange hedge with white blooms again under the east and west windows.
I could say more about my view, but I think you got the picture.
Thanks for stopping by for a cup of tea.
Enjoy your chocolate without guilt!
Carol, Aunt Leona, Sharyn, Tom P., Erik, Omaira, Brian, Betty, Bonnie, Lynda, and Clyde.
Love and blessings to you all!