Sunny Sunday

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It’s starting to look and feel like spring. We’ve lived through the cyclone bomb–the photo was taken right after the storm. Thankfully, we didn’t have much damage here. Wish I could say the same for friends and family in Nebraska and Colorado.

But I’m taking advantage of good weather to start spring garden clean-up. My potatoes and snow peas are ready to go in the ground. Tomato and eggplant seedlings are doing fine in the basement along with a variety of green-leaf lettuces. Happy to be gardening again.

And, I’ve finished my paranormal romance and will start looking  for representation next week. I’ll post how it goes.

 

Sleepy Sunday

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Rain and wind yesterday, moderated today with temps in the 40’s (Fahrenheit).  But still overcast and chilly. Not a nice weather day yet. But there are robins on my lawn, so spring is coming.

And here is Fat Boy, stretched out on his bed, but ignoring his blanket. Guess he’s decided he’s too good for a $12-on-sale flannel blanket and would prefer to sleep on chenille. He picks out the little white threads, too, so eventually, I’ll have to replace the bedspread.

Bad kitty.

Stormy Skies

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Skies like this aren’t unusual in Kansas. I shot this after last week’s storms began to head out, and sure enough, this week’s been sunny. Lots of blue skies.

Getting something done in the garden. Getting something done in the office.

It’s all good.

Email from Face Book

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It’s been 48 days since I deactivated Face Book, so I’m a little more than halfway to my 90 day commitment.

Face Book has taken to sending me emails that say stuff like: Your friend so-and-so has updated their status. Go and see what they’re up to.

Uh-uh, guys. I know if I click and enter my password, I’m reactivated. Although, in a way I’m glad Face Book wants me back enough to chase me. I miss my online friends and family.

As for the photo, this is the first–and maybe only–Siberian iris so far this year. If it truly turns out to be the ‘only’, I’ll need to plant more.

 

 

 

 

Here Come the Peonies

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My front garden’s looking a bit jungle-like with three giant peony plants coming into bloom, along with the irises. And the false indigo. And the clematis.

Speaking of peonies, how do you pronounce the word? When I lived in Omaha, it was pronounced pee-nee, and Omaha has Peony Park amusement park. Folks would ask, “Did you get out to Pee-Nee Park this year?” And since I originally hail from the East Coast, I thought it was spelled Pee-Nee. To go along with Ak-Sar-Ben.

Here in Kansas, especially south of Kansas City, folks are likely to say pee-oh-nees, with the accent on the second syllable. Me, I say pee-a-nee, accent on the first, and leave it at that.

However you say it, they’re gorgeous, even covered in ants.

Persistence

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Do you see that frilly leafed plant at the bottom of the photo? Unless I miss my guess, that’s Nepeta (Catmint) Walker’s Low. It has a lovely blue flower and a musty smell. When in bloom, bees and butterflies will cover it, making it difficult for an insect-phobic human like me to get close enough to weed.

Fifteen years ago, I planted a tiny Walker’s Low plant that in five years’ time grew so large it took over a third of my front flower bed.  In the fall of 2008, I spent three days ripping it out.  I dug deep and then deeper to get every bit of root.

Or so I thought.

Now it’s 2018 and if my powers of identification are correct, here it comes again. Out of the ground, like the unwanted dead haunting my garden. Not quite sure what I’ll do. Tear it out? Leave it, having learned to prune it back—severely—every fall? Whatever I do, I gotta admire its persistence.

This past year, I’ve had my own lessons in persistence. I’ve been a technical writer for many years but always wanted to write dark fiction.

Fantasy. Horror. Paranormal (gasp) romance.

But I didn’t just want to write stuff and put it away in a box or on a flash drive for posterity. I wanted to publish. In my lifetime.

Last year, I decided it was time to figure out how. Without burdening you (at least not yet) with all the details, I stumbled upon a fabulous coach who taught me what my Walker’s Low already knew. Keep at it. Do the work. Show up. Persist.

After 14 months of alternating between discouragement and determination, I have two short stories, publication forthcoming sometime this summer. Stay tuned…

Surprise!

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Just planted this black lace elderberry (Sambucus nigra) and it’s already blooming pink.  I’ve tried elderberries out of online catalogs without success.

So if you need a reason to buy local, here it is.