The beautiful couple is my Godson and his new wife. The wedding was sweet, and short, and their adoration toward eachother was so apparent throughout the day.

The flowers were simple, but beautiful, they were just right.

The exchange of vows was romantic, and sincere, and yes, of course I cried.

They lit the unity candle in perfect synchronization.

The flower girl offered rose petals for everyone to throw as they exited the church.

And we danced.

* * * * *

It was a weekend of remembering, of smiling, laughing, hugging, and eating. It was a weekend of meeting people again that I haven’t seen in ages. And on the way home, it was a time of reflection.

In my 19 years away, look at all that I’ve missed. I’ve missed watching the childhood of my Godson – going to his baseball games, birthday parties, and graduations. I’ve cherished a photo of him when he was just a toddler and it was as though my mind didn’t think of him as a person who would grow up, fall in love, and get married.

I’ve missed my cousins being born – and met one of them, an adult, that I’ve never met before. I’m on the outside of the inside jokes. I’m loved, yes, from a distance and with casual yet formal hugs and smiles. I am the one they thank for traveling a distance (though it’s not a very big one) to visit.

It’s amazing to me how much life happens in 19 years. How not being nearer to your family means you will miss it, unless you make it a point not to. I spent some time mourning the things I missed, but also being so grateful that this realization hit me when it did. I won’t be the one who sits idly by and waits for an invitation to be with my family. I need to be the one to call, to remember, to make the effort – because if I’m not, no one will.

What a wonderful, beautiful, emotional weekend.

How far do you live from your family, and how often do you see the ones you love?

The storms that passed through lastnight were remnants of what hit Kansas. Still, they packed a punch and brought my girls to huddled piles of blankets. I watched out the window as the winds took control, saw the clouds as they swirled to form tornadoes that touched down in farms miles away. I stood in awe, humming this song as I watched, thinking that as terrifying as it is, it is equally beautiful and wondrous to watch.

I held my camera to the window, pointed it at the top of the tree in our front yard, and snapped in burst mode (they’re about 2 seconds long each). I opened them up this morning and was in awe all over again. The whole series is about 10 seconds worth of our tree blowing – it clearly shows the power of the storm. The movement is captivating to me – slightly blurry, but crisp where they need to be.

The hail came after the wind – quarter sized, but it didn’t do much damage that we could see.

I stayed with the girls as another storm moved in and counted “one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand” with each flash of lightening, and fell asleep when the storm was about twelve-one-thousands away.

If I were tiny, I could climb on his back and ask him to fly me around the backyard. He just looks like he’s got a nice comfy little seat there for someone to ride on. In fact, I could probably bring a friend. Who wants to be tiny with me?

It looks like a comfortable spot, doesn’t it? Please say you’ll go.

I was bored and had my camera in my lap. These are my Levi’s denim shorts.

Hey Fred! They’re fresh out of suet — c’mon over here!
(female downy woodpecker.)

Hi! I’m Chip! Chip! Chip! Chip!!! CHIP CHIP CHIP CHIP!
(chipping sparrow.)

I am infatuated with my new Batik Irises. This is a Tiger Honey.

Ooooh so comfortabuhhllllsssss. Dusty Bunny says “Yessss”.

Extreme close up of Mini Rex comfortabuhllness. Stretch those kickers!

mmmm. Strawberries.

A gigantic German Bearded Iris that I cut and brought inside to enjoy.

My Knockout Rose bushes are in bloom – don’t forget to stop and smell the roses!

In other news – hubby is having shoulder surgery today, and while we’re excited about the possibility he might not feel the pain again that he’s been in for a couple of years now, it’s still surgery, we’re still “getting up there” in age and with every surgery there is risk – so we would greatly appreciate your prayers for safe keeping and speedy recovery.

I always find that some time in my garden with my flowers can do a lot for my mood, and I wonder if any of you have the opportunity to experience this. While I was thumbing through my recent shots, I found several that evoked very specific feelings in me, so I thought I’d do a little social experiment, if you will.

Over the next few days I’ll post my photos and you tell me how you feel when you’re looking at them. I’d like to know if it’s a momentary change or if you feel like you’ll carry this new feeling with you, even for a little while.

My irises have almost unfurled, and there’s already a very strong smell of grapes coming from them. I would, if I could, create and patent an iris scented nose insert. This would be especially good if you have smelly neighbors, or just spend a lot of time around smelly people. Simply put the iris scented nose inserts up into each nostril and voila! You smell grapes, and all the world is right again.

I have a lot of irises this year. I even planted one that is supposed to look like a Baboon’s butt Bottom. I know it sounds a little demented, but I’m kinda excited to see that one, kwim? People are strange. Myself included.

My gerber/gerbera daisies are lover-ly. I have several in a planter that my hubby made for me, it’s my daisy planter box. People actually slow down when they drive past my house to look at the pretty flowers. I always flip them my green thumb when they do that, I’m such a show off.

This is how my planter looks this year:

They’re really sissy flowers, and require a lot of attention and babying – but they’re worth it. Now for the good stuff. I mean the REALLY good stuff. The stuff that’s going to prove that my thumb probably isn’t as green as I’d like to think!

This is my vegetable garden. Hubby dug it up, it’s 12′ x 12′. He reeeealy wanted a veggie garden this year so I’m going to do my best. I’ve planted broccoli, cauliflower, beets, bush beans, green peppers and two half rows of spinach. We also have (off to the side against the fence) roma tomatoes and cucumber. Now, I have to tell you, I kill food. I kill it dead, and fast.

It’s been one week and one day since I planted stuff and things are still standing up and green.

(Pausing for applause.)

I am hoping, if all goes well, to be eaten alive by garden bugs and sweat like a farmer woman pulling weeds by mid summer. Why on earth is this something that a girl would aspire to, anyway? All this just for a fresh head of broccoli? Maybe what I really aspire to is to be clubbed over the head and dragged away by my really long hair by a cave man. Or a military man. (There, honey, now you qualify.)

Any gardeny advice for a newbie? Please? Tips, tricks or sprays that I should use? Special gloves? Bandanas? Ponytail holders? Knee pads? Grub identification manuals? Anything?

Okay, well, you think about it and I’ll get back to work over here. I’ve got blog designing to do. And paintings to ship, and jeez – a whole bunch of stuff on my to-do list! (Crack that whip!)

Quintin, our Quaker Parrot, kept lifting up his foot to me when I said “hi”. I think he’s waving back at me. He’s gotten pretty entertaining!

Here’s his current vocabulary (he’s just over a year old) :

• Hi
• Kiss Kiss (the words)
• Kiss Kiss (the noise)
• Muuuah
• Whaddaya say?
• Good Boy
• Yeah.
• Pretty bird
• Pretty PRETTY bird
• AaaaCHOO!
• Bless you!
• Thank you!
• Ha ha ha!
• You’re funny!
• Tickle tickle?
• Arf! (he barks like the puppy)
• Cat call (the whistle)
• Purr (the sound)
• Pllllllbt (the sound)

Not too bad for a baby bird, huh? Right now I’m working on “good morning” and “love you”. He rambles on at the television, too – some of his words aren’t totally distinct so I don’t really know what they are. He’s so awesome, I absolutely love having him around and I can’t imagine not having a bird now. (Thumps my husband for making me wait so long.)

We were at the pet store last weekend and they had about 6 African Gray parrots, two of them were still so young that they weren’t afraid of people yet. (The more they’re exposed to passers by that don’t know how to handle birds, the more scared/agressive they become.) Catie and I picked two of the snuggliest parrots and it was hard to put them down when it was time to leave, and believe me I would have taken one home but those beauties cost a minimum of $1200 just for the bird, their cages start at around $300. Yikes! They’re totally worth it, and I’ll get one eventually, when the timing is right.

If you’re considering a parrot, I really would recommend starting out with a hand fed baby Quaker (and here’s a great web resource on Quakers). They’re sweet and loving, cuddly and talkative without being obnoxious and loud. There are a few varieties, too – I initially wanted the Blue Quaker, but Catie ultimately chose because he’s her bird and will go with her when she leaves the nest, too.