Growing Things

     I’ve been growing things. Successfully… and by that I mean they won’t be reduced to dust and ash if I accidently breathe on them. I’m notorious for killing green things. Until now:

    There’s my flaming red single flower of prettiness. I planted eight summer bulbs. It seems that 3 made it through my novice attempts at gardening. I hummed a funeral dirge for the five that never broke ground. These two should bloom soon: 

I’ve loved them and watered them and named them George...

and George's friend... 

     My hanging baskets have also made it more than a month and are overflowing with flowering happiness. I smile in their direction every time I pull in the driveway:

And I even have a harvest:

    

     Did you notice the black arrows? They point to my evil past (oh wait…that’s my present). A few seed starts didn’t survive the transplant or my inexperience. My green thumbs are in a developmental stage. So much to learn. All the cilantro died but I still have chives and parsley. Next year I really want to plant a vegetable garden. Do you think the little veggie babies will survive me? Try & try again.