A Room With A View:
Below is the view I have from the couch. I can’t see much out the front window because the shrubs are always too tall. But there’s not much out front to see aside from the maintenance shed anyway.
So I am so happy to have this view out back.
Passion Vine Dilemma:
My passion vine has pretty much dried up in the heat. Odd too, because it is surrounded by big clumps of white alyssum. So I’ve cut it way back and we’ll see what happens.
I’ve read that passion vine can become invasive. I guess it hasn’t met our brand of heat.
Baby Sedum Autumn Joy:
After I moved the sedum autumn joy out of the clematis pot and put it in its own big pot, this smaller one sprung up.
Last week when it got to about the size you see above, I repotted it in its own pot.
Kitchen Counter Top Fix:
The other day I was looking at my kitchen counter tops with frustration. I’ve been trying to declutter this area lately.
So I thought: Why don’t I just put things like my protein powders and sugar and such in the refrigerator?
And so I did. That cleared things off the counter pretty quick. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of this before.
Then I was talking on the phone to my sister in Texas, and she said she did the same thing. We’ve never even met, but we are a lot alike.
Words Of Healing & Loss From February:
“I will take a small step – just one. In my mind’s eye, perhaps I can see my loved one nodding in encouragement – ‘Yes. Go on. You can. I am with you.”
“The attempt to “be brave,” to “keep a stiff upper lip” and otherwise be controlled and poised in the face of grief, is a false god. How are we supposed to feel when our heart is broken?
“And yet we continue to extol those who do not show their grief in public, who receive condolences as though the occasion were a pleasant Sunday afternoon exchange.
“She was so brave. I was proud of her. She didn’t break down, not once,” we hear people say.
“For whose benefit is this ironclad hold on the emotions? For the griever’s sake? For the sake of the consolers, who may be fearful of being swept up into the grief, unsure of how they will handle it when their time comes?
“A friend said: “If someone cries in front of me, I consider it a gift,'”
“I don’t need everyone else to be sucked into my grief, as long as I can claim my own space for grieving.”
“With the help of these and other commonplace objects – with the help of the two big elm trees that shaded the house from the heat of the sun, and the trumpet vine by the back door, and the white lilac bush by the dining room window, and the comfortable wicker porch furniture and the porch swing, that contributed its creak…creak…to the sounds of the summer night – I got from one day to the next.” – William Maxwell
“I’m for whatever gets you through the night.” – Frank Sinatra
“Of course time eases our grief, provided we let it follow its course and give it its due. Few of us would want the intensity and desolation of early grief to stay with us forever. That’s not what we’re afraid of.
“But we may be afraid that we’ll lost the intensity of love we felt for the one we have lost.
“At first these two – the grief and the loss – are so wedded to each other that we cannot separate them. We may cling to the grief in desperation so we will be sure not to lose the love.
“Perhaps the grief and the love will always be wedded to each other to some degree, like two sides of a coin. But maybe after a while, when we flip the coin, it will almost always be the love that turns up on top.”
“I will see the shadows of grief everywhere. And move on.”
What I’m Currently Reading:
On the banks of the North Santee River stands a moss-draped oak that was once entrusted with the dreams of three young girls.
Into the tree’s trunk, they placed their greatest hopes, written on ribbons, for safekeeping–including the most important one: Friends forever, come what may.
But life can waylay the best of intentions….