So Howard took his big scary camera outside early this bright sunny morning,
and snapped a few of our spring blooms in the act of, well, blooming.
Who doesn't love hyacinths?
"Hey, Bud . . . you're gonna be a yellow tulip!"
A little rose bush is blushing up its leaves.
No action from the grape vines yet; they are slow starters,
but once they get going, get out of their way.
Inside the house, in the sunroom, my Christmas cactus plants continue to suffer from identity crisis-es.
These dudes bloomed at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and now Easter.
They need a new union.
This wire patio set is going to the booth, and I've decided to give it a new, fresh
coat of paint to help it stand up to the elements, so it can live in plein air,
which is a fancy French art term for "outside."
In the meantime, the set is looking rustic and inviting, on the driveway level above The Old House.
And now, I'm off for a day of thrifting and antiquing with
my friend Emily. Who knows where we'll go?
We hope Merlin, the GPS, will have some good ideas.