I wouldn't say I have a brown thumb, but it's definitely a sickly yellow. In general, I neglect house plants to the point of death, and my husband coaxes them back to miraculous life. (And I dearly hope this is not a metaphor for our parenting.) I periodically plant fall bulbs, only to find them sprouting somewhere the squirrels thought more aesthetically pleasing. I buy perennials from catalogs or the local garden center, put them in and pray they return the following season. When they do, I am invariably surprised:
However, this does not mean that in spring I am not surrounded by colorful and healthy bloom. They just happen to have been planted by someone else. The beautiful purple flowers pictured at the top of this post hang over my back fence, where I enjoy them as much as if they were planted on my side.
Lining my driveway are four dogwoods currently in full bloom, courtesy of Darling Husband. Despite the width of my driveway, I did manage to tear some smaller branches from one of the trees one day as I was backing out. (Sorry, honey.)
And today, my beloved spouse presented me with this for Mother's Day:
His faith his touching, is it not?
♥ ♥ ♥