Backyard Bloom

Love my backyard.

I bought this house for the one thing I said I didn't want: a yard.

Now, I can't imagine myself without one. OK. Sure, the check to the lawnmower guy, every other week, DOES help. Yet the yard is what sold me on this house.

The lady, who raised her sons in this house, loved her yard too. One of her sons said his mom tended to a vegetable and herb garden until she became too ill. Then was just able to tend to her flowers. The greatest gift his mom left me(outside of the circa 1970's appliances because I had zilch) are the blooms that come back every year.

Last April when I moved in, I was too emotionally drained to pay attention to the yard. This year is SO different. I have some small trees, just a bit taller than me, leaves for decoration. Three rose bushes, my wisteria, gladiolas, little pink and lavender flowers sprinkled everywhere. There are other plants and flowers, the lady, who planted them, would know their names. I must Google to learn them.

I wonder if I could have done what the lady did: plant and love these plants from the beginning? Maybe I can accent what the lady started? She might just sit on the bench under the wistera and smile.

I love my backyard.