When I go to work each day in my office, or my kitchen, or my easy chair (or wherever my laptop takes me), I feel blessed. After college, I worked first as a legal secretary and then as a legal assistant in offices and firms for over 15 years.  I loved that too, but being a writer fulfills my greatest artistic longings.  An honorable profession, I wish it paid more.  However, like the commercial says, the other benefits are priceless. Through my work, I am constantly learning.  Although I gardened from the age of 21 or so, once I began to write about plants, a twinkling universe opened itself to me. Besides, learning keeps us young, and I fully intend to stay young in here (I say as I tap my chest) where it counts, until I draw my final breath. This past week I wrote two articles about birds. ...

The dreaded disease, Bulbmania, struck Rosehaven and me.  I blame it on Elizabeth, from Gardening While Intoxicated and one of my Plurkettes. All of her plurks and posts about bulbs made me sick with bulbenvy, a precursor to full blown mania. We do the family Easter celebration at our house every spring, so I always plant some bulbs in the front garden, but this year . . . . Pity me. The bulk of the bulbs started arriving this week in sweet little boxes which belie how many plants are inside.  I've dug so many holes (well, between kid stuff anyway) that I'm starting to feel like my Labrador, Prancer.  I ordered from Old House Gardens, the Southern Bulb Company and Brent and Becky's Bulbs too. Later, as I strolled through Target, I simply had to walk down the Smith & Hawken aisle.  Who knew they would also have bulbs? ...

It's time to announce the winner of the contest to name my little patch of paradise.  Choosing was tougher than I expected.  I'm amazed at the number of entries I received, all of which, I might add, were excellent. Anna, a/k/a Flower Garden Girl, came up with Rambling Rose.  Pretty and sweet, just like her.  Her blog is down right now so unfortunately, I can't link to her. Windsong, promoted by my Tennessee friend, Gail of Clay and Limestone, seemed the winner of the popular vote.  I love it, but every time I spoke it, the commercial for the perfume kept running through my mind.  Does anyone else remember that commercial, or am I just dating myself? Cindy, who writes From My Corner of Katy, voted for Rock Rose Gardens, a play of words on rose rocks, which are found only in Oklahoma.  I loved it. LaDonna thought of Gaillardia,...

All Saint's Day by Ada Cambridge 1844-1926 Never to weary more, nor suffer sorrow,— Their strife all over, and their work all done: At peace—and only waiting for the morrow; Heaven's rest and rapture even now begun. So tired once! long fetter'd, sorely burden'd, Ye struggled hard and well for your release; Ye fought in faith and love—and ye are guerdon'd, O happy souls! for now ye are at peace. No more of pain, no more of bitter weeping! For us a darkness and an empty place, Somewhere a little dust—in angels' keeping— A blessèd memory of a vanish'd face. For us the lonely path, the daily toiling, The din and strife of battle, never still'd; For us the wounds, the hunger, and the soiling,— The utter, speechless longing, unfulfill'd. For us the army camp'd upon the mountains, Unseen, yet fighting with our Syrian foes,— The heaven-sent manna and the...