I'm so glad mother nature has a sense of humor. It's not unheard of to have snow in St. Louis in March or April for that matter. But this morning, it looked like a December morning when I pulled back the curtains and looked outside. The flakes were like wet cotton balls coming down. Very odd.
We've worked tirelessly in the garden this weekend hauling mulch, preparing garden beds (both old and new) till we could barely move from our chairs in the evening. I fell asleep sitting up both Friday and Saturday night. I feel like I have a "handle" on the gardening at this point. But as anyone who gardens will tell you: There is no end to gardening. I have never, ever looked out my window and said, Meh, that's "good enough". This horrible "gardening gene" was passed down to me and renders me completely out of my mind from about mid-February till the first kill frost in November.
I even ventured out with the lawn mower in tow at one point!
OH the horrors.
Today is time for a much needed break. We are both curled up around the fireplace reading our books. I've got Padma Lakshmi's memoir: Love, Loss and What We Ate. I love this book. Love. It.
For starters, I've watched Padma on Top Chef like most foodies I suppose do: in admiration and envy.
Oh, to be able to sit at those tables and judge, taste and critique!
Oh to sit at those tables and radiate her charm and beauty! (Just love the Padma.)
I've always thought of her as the glue that kept the show together and watchable.
Her careful, measured tone with all of the contestants--it lends an air of sophistication to an otherwise pretty awful landscape of "reality" TV. So, when I spotted her memoir on the shelf the other day, I picked it up and began reading the first chapter. I was hooked. I'd been living in shell as far as it relates to her "life". Honestly, I never thought much about her having had a past worthy of reading about at all.
Oh. How. Wrong. I. Was.
Then, like everyone else in the known world, I am also reading When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi. I've had to stop and rest after moments of reading this small but powerful book.
It's a moving, striking, vivid account of Dr. Kalanithi's life. And then the rest I'll leave at that.
I love memoirs. I have, as I've gotten older, felt that while I still find a good story is always worth reading, spending some time in the real world is also just as rewarding for me as a reader.
Dr. Thyme is a prolific reader, too--though Science Fiction is on his radar constantly.
He'll probably read two books today alone.
I'll be lucky to finish one.
It's such a book kind of day today.
But before I leave here, more on the garden front.
I have bulbs and seeds galore that will be our next plan of attack. For some reason I thought it might be a good idea to heap loads of good early deals I happened upon during my sojourn through the gardening section of ALL the stores in our neighborhood. All told, the tally comes to about 100 new flowers seeds, hostas, lilies and what have you for "punching up" the colors in the landscape. Or for feeding the rabbits.
Though most of the planting will be managed by yours truly, I am very grateful for the "man" help Dr. Thyme provides.
All that lifting and dragging and pouring, he's been a real trooper.
On one of my strolls out back, the blossoms on my peach tree this year stopped me in my tracks.
Could this be the bounty I've been waiting for?
I'll have to install a motion detector to assure I get at least ONE damn peach from my crop as the varmint wreaked havoc on the poor tree last summer.
We carved out some special time for the kids this weekend, too, taking a walk along our favorite trail.
The girls loved it.
Pear tree blossoms.