Let us ride together, Blowing mane and hair, Careless of the weather, Miles ahead of care, Ring of hoof and snaffle, Swing of waist and hip, Trotting down the twisted road With the world let slip. Anonymous riding song.
Along for the ride:
Monday, June 17, 2013
Forwards, Backwards, Sideways
My garden is in an "in-between" phase. Sweet-peas are waning. My flashy, lipstick-colored Gladioli have had some early glory, and been burned by a quick heat wave. Their apricot and cream clothed cousins are just unfurling their ruffles. Dahlias are beginning to loosen their tight buds, but not enough yet for anyone but me to know their colors, which are cataloged in my plant memory-banks.
There are nasturtiums and geraniums and Persian, night-blooming jasmine but I didn't think I had enough cutting specimens to make a bouquet to take to a friend who had invited us to lunch on Sunday.
But wait! Behind the jasmine, out of sight, I have a small and isolated herd of bi-color sweet-peas, pretending to be butterflies as they bob around in the breeze. That's a start.
Fuchsia, begonia and petunia are not for cutting but make a glowing oasis of color in the shade.
I scavenged around and came up with enough blooms to fill a vase, after all. From this angle it looks quite formal, with skyscraper gladioli for verticality and rotund hydrangea for foundation volume. When delivering flowers to an Artist, best have a design theory to present along with:)
Rosemary, snap-dragons, sweet-peas and jasmine fill in the gaps between the building blocks.
The back of the bouquet has a separate identity entirely, a wild-child cluster of chaos which is my favorite aspect.
I don't often cut flowers for myself. I enjoy my garden immensely and don't feel the need to bring it indoors. I do love having flowers to cut and take to friends. This bouquet traveled a hundred miles to its destination, seat-belted upright into the back seat in the vase.
If I were a tree, I would be a London Plane. I am gregarious but enjoy solitude. I am English in my heart and soul, but still have room for other nations. I have lived in six countries and picked up a French husband along the way. We have a wonderful, kind, strong-minded daughter who has become a "Human of whom to be proud". I am a magnet for the lost. I foster collies (and collie cousins and the occasional, accidental, cat or crow). Those I have saved have saved me in return. I notice the world around me and often talk to strangers. Traveling alone is interesting, liberating and fulfilling. I am good at most things that I undertake but have few formal qualifications. I am able to have and treasure friends with whom I disagree about almost everything. My life is not over. Who knows where I am headed?
A ponyism is one of Life's Truths perceived from the perspective of an Effing Pony: - Life's a Bluff! - Those who aspire to make their mark on this world must expect to scrape some skin on the walls of experience. - The greatest value of money is as the currency of Hope.
- To be an Ass or an Asset, that is the question?
-Selective memory is but the first step on the path to magical thinking.
-Not all Baggage comes with wheels. -When your hero is a horse you are less likely to be disappointed than were he a human.
-Unfortunately, great wealth does not always equate with class.
-A dick, surrounded by puppies, remains a dick. -What better antidote to evil than kittens? -Any time you have something heavy, ready to drop, your cat will sit right below and look up at you.