I spent most of Saturday helping my sister and her husband get their yard in shape in preparation for putting their house up for sale. I won't get into it now, but while I was planting some asters, I started to wonder if maybe "staging" in gardening/landscaping is a business not yet explored. I digress ...
When I came home late Saturday afternoon and stepped out of the car, looking awesomely filthy, I did my usual quick tour of the garden.
I said "Hi" to my handsome looking Miscanthus 'Morning Light':
Noticed the Sorghastrum 'Sioux Blue' (Blue Indian Grass) has made great strides after planting only a little stub of a plant this spring:
Questioned why the Chelone glabra (Turtlehead) looks like hell each summer as the blooms quickly turn to a state of death:
When my daughter suddenly ran out of the house in a state of euphoria. She had something really important to show me and ordered that I come in the house ... pronto.
You don't tell my daughter "no" so I headed inside. When I entered, she had my camera in hand and made me look at the photos my wife had taken earlier that morning. She looked over my shoulder as I went through them and provided commentary:
"Look Dad, I cut the flowers myself and didn't care about all the bees. Aren't you proud of me?":
"They smelled sooooo good":
"Look, I even ... what's the word? Arranged them":