Birthday Solitude

It’s my birthday today so, I declared it a holiday and took the day off from work. Marigold was happy; she got an extra day in the country.

Walking around my property, netted a huge mixed bouquet of blooms. To the left of my farmhouse there are four rows of a camellia specimen garden. No two are exactly alike. I do not know their names and wish someone who could identify them would come and do so. The solid, medium-sized white ones are my favorite.

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The bulbs that we’re planted last October are all up and blooming. I was surprised to see that, down by the lower, ground-sweeping limbs, the Pride of Mobile azaleas are beginning to bud and bloom. 20190222_165222_resized

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This solid red camellia was high above my head and I could not get to it. I tried not to give it the fox’s perspective and call it sour grapes. The picture doesn’t do it justice. So, I left it for the bees and the birds to admire.

All the blooms were brought into the kitchen, trimmed and placed in an antique pedestal bowl.

 

 

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Spring Violets are in drifts all over the field, across from my farmhouse.
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I discovered more wild huckleberry plants, also in full bloom, under the canopy of oaks and magnolias.

 

In the remains of the old orchard, one of the Mayhaw trees was abuzz with honey bees. Come one jelly making season.

 

 

I’m an easy person to please. My nephew asked me, “You’re  not doing anything for your birthday?”

My answer: “Oh, yeah, baby. I’m enjoying the solitude.”

Just give me a sweet breeze through the trees,  lots of flowers to gather, the songs of birds and the sunshine. That’s all the birthday present I need.

My Birthday Blessings to you.

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F.P.

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Saturday; the word has to be one of the most glorious ever thought up. Whether it’s watching collegiate football or catching up on weekly chores,  how would we make it without Saturday?

At my farmhouse I’ve done all of the above. I’m watching my LSU TIGERS take on Georgia right now. GEAUX TIGERS!

Earlier Miss Marigold and I went to the hardware store for vent hood pipe and aluminum tape. I had never put said vent pipe in said vent hood and I had a masked bandit get into my house. Yes, a raccoon! It got into the attic and then came through the ceiling into the cabinet with the vent hood. Of course when I got home Tuesday, I didn’t know it had been a raccoon that had riffled through my kitchen drawers and knocked over lamps. I called the sheriff’s office when I saw the blood on a wall in one of the bedrooms. The deputy was prompt in getting to my house and investigated around.

“I don’t see any brbrbrokkkkenenen winders,” he said. Yes, a pronounced stutter.

“Right,” I agreed. “And the doors were all locked. I don’t know how they got in. They knocked over the lamps on the sitting area.”

“Where’s the blood ma’am?”

I showed him. He looked around and shined his flashlight on the floor. Scat, as in wild animal poop.

“Ah, wewwell, I believe everything is oookkkkay. I ththink ya just got a cricricritter!”

So, anyway, I plugged the hole above the stove, but I don’t know how the masked bandit got into the attic. Maybe he won’t come back, since he somehow hurt himself riffling through my house.

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My house: Flowers Proper. F.P. for short. (Side note: if you’re ever watching the Weather Channel and a big storm is coming up through New Orleans to Hattiesburg, the Weather caster will start calling out areas along the storms path: listen and look at the map. They often call out, “Get ready Flowers, you’re about to be hit by this bad weather.” Flowers is basically my house, a few others, a big chicken farm  and a hunting camp. But dont tell the Weather Channel. I like hearing them announce my little spot on the map.)

I spent the rest of the day in my front garden. I bought 100 flower bulbs from American Meadows and they came in this week. The lady at the post office retrieved my package, when I handed her the notice that had been placed in my P.O.Box.  She asked, “Flowers Proper?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I love hearing the name of my home. I also love restoring the gardens. Ancient azaleas, sasanqua, and camelias remain, but very few old plantings from the neglected flower beds do. Just a few spider and day lilies. A couple of wild irises.

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I planted the box of daffodils and hyacinths from American Meadows. Miss Marigold sniffed at them as I planted them in a serpentine pattern at the base of the Pride of Mobile. It should make a pretty show around Easter next year. A prayer was sent heavenward that they will give joy to future visitors.

Saturday Blessings from Flowers Proper.

Harbingers of Spring

I did no work at my house today. We were celebrating; it was my grandson’s birthday. He is now a big 2 years old.

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The daffodils in the backyard are up and cheerfully blooming. Camellias of every color are opening, even though some cold nights have bitten them back. A bouquet for my daughter-in-law was picked.

I have a countertop full of seeds. Vegetable packets from Johnny’s and flower seeds from Wildseed Farms are yearly harbingers of Spring. Now, if only the pecan trees would bud out, I could plant them.

Blessings from the Exiles Kitchen.