Alarm clocks are no longer a big thing in this house. There was time when every day — minus (maybe) Sunday was an alarm day. Garry didn’t need a clock. His head knew when he should get up, but I needed to at least set the clock, even if I woke up before it went off.

Frog has returned.

We got up. We didn’t whine about it either. It was one of Garry’s more lovable traits that if he had to get up, he just did it. He didn’t go into the rolling over and crying for mercy from on high because it was too early. He knew that when you had to get up, do it. No amount of begging would help.

The green, green of home. There are a few lily buds in there. No, really, there are.

For the last week, there have been “things to do” in the morning. People to see and call. Wait for so when they don’t show up, you can start trying to figure out what happened, then do it again.

We still have columbine, but it is finally fading.

The last time I had to do this — to meet the guy who is supposed to fix our front door — he neglected to arrive. It was also the day of James Comey’s Senate testimony. When the guy didn’t show up, I — at least — had another reason for getting myself moving. We rescheduled for today … and here I am.

Triumph is the day’s theme. It’s hard to find anything about which to feel genuinely triumphant, except maybe that this is the second day of bright sunshine in a region that has been starving for sun. I would have preferred a period of cooler weather before the real heat of summer hit, but you don’t get choices with weather. It does what it does and you are glad if it isn’t dropping a few feet of snow, blowing a gale, or doing a whole “torrential rain” thing.

Pink petunias

It’s going to be a hot one today, probably mid nineties. I’m trying to decide if I should turn on the air conditioning now, or wait until it gets truly unpleasant. There’s always the “save money on electricity and wait until you have no choice” versus the “do it now and keep the house cool from the start” option. I’m tempted to cool it down n the hopes of eliminating some of the ragweed that’s drifting through the air.

Orange hanging begonias on the back deck

While I was out yesterday, contemplating our lack of flowers, we got ourselves in gear in the latter part of the afternoon and went to the local nursery in Mendon for some flowers. No one had flowers in their garden, but the ragweed is in full bloom. Swell.

Usually, I can buy flowers in town. There’s a small flower shop. Not a nursery, but it sells beautiful plants on racks and on tables for a few months in the spring and later in the fall. I think they have a nursery outside of town. Not this year, though. Too cold, too rainy. And the stuff the grocery store is selling looks depressed and raggedy.

To be fair, the stuff at the nursery only looked a bit better. It hasn’t been a good year for the flowers. The complete lack of lilies and roses in my yard is a clear indicator of that. Maybe the flowers are politically depressed, too. I spent a good couple of hours yesterday taking some pictures and hoping to find some buds at least. A few lily buds, nothing noteworthy on the roses. And these are hedge roses. They always bloom. Always. It’s their thing. Blooming and growing the ugliest, sharpest, barbed-wire thorns on earth.

More orange begonias

Triumph is not the word of the day or the week or the year. There’s been nothing triumphant about 2017 in the U.S. It’s been a depressing grind, with ugly politics and ugly politicians. Too much rain, too much heat. Too much or too little of just about everything from the turning of the year to today.

I’m counting on the warm weather to somehow make it better. Owen is cutting the grass and I can smell it from here, that wonderful scent of green in the air. I’ve got two orange, hanging begonias out back. I wanted fuchsias, but they really wanted to offload these begonias — I must have looked like someone who could nurse an ailing plant back to life. They had caterpillars on them and I spent a miserable few minutes removing caterpillars, spraying poison, adding fertilizer, watering, and trying to make these sad plants perk up. They’re out on my back porch hooks. I may go back for at least one real fuchsia. A summer without them is like … well … a summer without fuchsias!

Categories: #Flowers, #Photography, Gardens, Home

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16 replies

  1. Going out into the woods, looking at flowers anywhere I can find them…they all help me a little bit as I try to contend with the state of our nation. I love the flower pics you posted, they put a smile on my face, and as always, a little hope in my heart. And, except twice when I had to catch a train to Michigan, I have not used an alarm clock in ten years. That, however, does not keep me from waking up at 5, as I did all those years when an alarm clock seemed necessary!


  2. Great Job on the begonias! Love those shots and the petunia ๐Ÿ™‚

    I’m a snooze button/ put-it-off-till-the-last-minute kind of guy. hate getting out of bed, especially on a cold winter morning. can sometimes manage an early rise in summer but if i need to get up , say for a 6 am hospital appointment i wake before the alarm goes off and do what is necessary.

    Fortunately, for me, such days are the exception rather than the rule ๐Ÿ˜‰



  3. I can usually wake up without an alarm clock. Not often necessary now. I hope you do get some Fuchsia and take some pictures of them. They have such an intricate beautiful flower.


    • It’s late in the season for them. I’m going to try again, next weekend maybe. But i think next weekend we will be in the middle of the replacement of the front door, so possibly this won’t be a year for fuchsia. It won’t be the first. There have been others where I wasn’t able to get to the nursery in time. I might get some healthier looking begonias, though.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. I have a good working inner alarm clock sometimes it needs a reset, like when I had to get up at 5 am one morning. I woke up at 5 am every morning there after for a week. Hope our flower situation gets better I have Iris blooming now they are a bit straggly though.


    • I can see buds on some lilies and I think the beginning of buds on the roses, but no flowers yet. The Columbine are finally fading. This time of year is usually the MOST flowery time, but I guess the cold, dark weather messed it all up.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. I have that knack for waking up right before the alarm’s supposed to go off. It’s nice from a practical standpoint… especially since I can’t stand the sound of the alarm. But it’s pretty depressing to wake up and find out there’s absolutely no use in rolling back over and trying to catch a little more sleep. I don’t get the people who pound the snooze alarm just to get blared at every nine minutes…


    • I used to do that, but years of being retired and I’ve lost my natural alarm. Garry too. He used to always know what time it was and just get up, but now, he needs an alarm clock (which he can’t hear). So actually, I need the alarm clock so I can then wake GARRY up. But I also need one for me because I don’t have my mental clock anymore. I’m a little surprised at that. I thought it would last forever.


  6. I have three alarm clocks every morning. Two on my iPads (the new iPad and the older one) and my mobile phone – bird song is the melody and that does it fine for me. Admittedly I have it on the loudest volume, but the idea is to hear it. Why? I do not go anywhere special or do anything special, but I like to have time and no stress for everything. I can ignore my alarm or not according to how I feel. As far as summer is concerned, it has arrived. the surviving roses are full of buds, although one rose bush I believe is still suffering from a light suffocation of the building dust, but I have not yet given up. So let us march on undaunted, the power women that we are. We can do it, and if not we can always write about it. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    • I don’t worry about when I wake up normally. But I actually had an appointment with the carpenter. We have to get the front door fixed. So we are getting a major repair (all the framing) plus a new door AND a new doggy door — they will have to wear those collars with the electronic thingies to open the flap. That’ll be a whole new experience for them. It will help keep the bugs out. The old flap is more than 10 years old and doesn’t close properly.

      This is the first big job we’ve done in a long time. We sold the yellow car, so this is where the money is going. He also does chimneys, so maybe he’ll fix that too if we can come up with the money. It needs to be lined with fireproof stainless steel. I hate having work done on the house, but this is not a choice. The door can’t survive another winter the way it is.

      Liked by 2 people

      • Our felines always had the elctronic things on their collars. They don’t need them to go out but to come in again. There are too many felines in our area, although it really makes no difference. They are all wearing the same one, so they can all enter each other’s flaps.


        • This is, I think, mainly to keep the flap shut more firmly. It will keep out insects, which IS a big deal, and rain, which may be an even bigger deal. This is a (normally) wet area. It rains a lot and we are on the downward slope of a hill, so we are even wetter than average. Our fur people aren’t familiar with these kinds of collars and normally, don’t wear anything but tick prevention collars. It will be a new experience for them.

          Liked by 1 person

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