All in all it was a very fine weekend.

I never considered gardening therapeutic. I’ve read about that. Not me, I thought. I’m not a fastidious, caring, green-thumbed gardener. LOVE flowers. Not so good at upkeep. Yet every spring I do plant a pot or two (or ten or fifteen or so), of beauties for my deck to surround Mister C and myself with color. Challenging to keep deer from feasting on their silky, colorful, must-be-sweet morsels, but when the deer leave them for us, it is so¬† comforting to the soul to peer out the windows from our kitchen to feel the essence and energy of summer reflected back from the flowers’ strength, colors, and characters!


So it was today. An afternoon of potting. Some, as this fuchsia, remain as is from the nursery, hung on a designated spot, year after year, easily accessible for enjoyment. I love it. Hummingbirds love it! Such a gift that is to catch a glimpse of them hovering, drinking of the nectar.

And others, re-potted into my favorite red, white and blue pottery. Ready to show the world how beautiful they are in their summery majesty.






It was a good weekend. Chaos still exists inside. Progress IS being made! Order is something we crave at this point. We were finally able to start to clean . . . the dust should be settling one of these days.






And some . . . plainly, beautifully, planted by mother nature . . .


Early this evening a song bird serenading brought the close of the day to a sweet conclusion!


I hope your weekend was filled with sweet sounds of summer.

A Post Divider cross-stitches