Could be a moth, could be a butterfly in the skipper family. Anyway, it was perched upon my plumeria this monring.
No, it’s not a sitrep sort of thing. Well, kind of.
I continued to work on the hedge this weekend. Well, Sunday. All that’s left is the lily bed and to plant more ivy.
Hope you all like looking at me as much as I like looking at you. Which is not at all. That huge green wall made so much difference. Like it was my own secret garden.
Well, with dog shit.
I hate living on a postage stamp.
Gone. I hope you’re happy asshole, because now you’ll see every move the dogs and I make in the back…
It’s down now; I just have to do cleanup. What a mess.
I feel nekkid.
The plants themselves are nearly dead… maybe I should replant? Should it be confederate ivy again or something else?
Would it surprise anyone to know that I’ve been standing out there in the middle of it all, staring at that house? You reap what you sow…
I can’t believe the month is half gone. It’s been a lovely, cool winter for those of us in south Florida, so I’ll be sorry to see Spring this year.
My husband sent two dozen roses for Valentine’s Day, as is his habit. I told him one single rose would be just as appreciated, but if it makes him happy to send 24, so be it.
In the not-so-good news, the neighbor behind us decided there was too much damn ivy over on his side and cut it back… with extreme prejudice. I can’t blame him; if it’s over there, it’s fair game. But damn… almost all of it is dead now. And that sucks.