Showing posts with label hosta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hosta. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Autumn on Our Acreage


This time of year, I know we are truly blessed to live on such a beautiful acre in the center of the city. Backing onto a steep, wooded ravine with a small creek running through it, our slice of heaven provides all the texture, color and crunch autumn has to offer.

No other explanation necessary. Sit back and enjoy the view.






































Make it a great day!
Linking to:

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

What the Shrek? National Photo Month, Day 15


I've probably mentioned--a few times--that green is my favorite color. When I went for a recent pedicure, I found this shocking green polish on the manicurist's shelf. Of course, I had to get it.

It made me think of my "Guacamole," "Liberty," "August Moon" and "June" hostas. So, as you might have imagined, I fully expected the name of the color to be nature-inspired.

Was I ever surprised! Would you believe

Who the Shrek Are You?

Is that a playful name, or what?

Make it a great day!

Linking to:


Saturday, April 28, 2012

#%&! Turkey Mess


This is the scene that greets us nearly every night when we arrive home from work--mulch scattered out into the street.


Here's the scene a few minutes later--after my husband, still in his work attire, rakes the mulch back into the garden plot.


We have a bit of a love-hate relationship with the turkeys that have made our woodsy yard their home over the past couple of years. They're totally fascinating to watch. The strutting. The preening. The squabbling. Oh, and the gobbling. I love the gobbling.

What I hate is that this spring, more than in the past, the turkeys have begun kicking up a whirlwind of mulch. The light scratching and easy pecking around the garden has given way to activity of twister proportions, resulting in mulch scattered everywhere--in the grass, on the street and completely obscuring the stone garden path.

We leave for work each day with mulch neatly in place and return most nights to a mess. Oh, the games those quirky turkeys play.



Sometimes the deer join the party and make a meal of our hostas. Definitely not the way to endear themselves to me (no pun intended).


Given the choice, I'd much rather deal with the turkey scratching. After all, a little light raking never hurt anyone.

Make it a great day!