Hi, Flickr Friends! Let's pick up the mood a bit around here. I've spent most of my online time today on Flickr.com viewing YOUR pictures. And lovin' every minute of it.

Jeanne8's photos are always so uplifting. It's funny how you can get a glimpse into someone by looking at their pictures.

And Auntowwee's documenting her new move into the historical family farmhouse. And yes, it's just as lovely as it sounds.

Mindful One is so creative and artistic with her collages and her embellished touch on her artwork.

Karen6977 captures photos that surround her. In beautiful Utah, the only problem with that is trying to decide which shot to take.

Kaneblues remains mysterious, but he lets his photos do his talking.

Threed, aka Susan, is our certified dog lover. She loves animals so much and her pet pics are just adorable.

You will flip when you see Trykemom's pictures. She has a great photo of a hawk! And an alligator! ("Gator's got your granny...", why do I automatically hear that old song?)

And I (sujaco) uploaded pics of the flowers that Robin planted and has bought from Brecks.com, and there's also a Canadian website. Don't know if they ship internationally or not. They have an unconditional guarantee. One of these days I hope to have a digital camera so I can take photos and share them with all of you. I'll be a picture taking fool someday.

So back to Flickr.com. Moonbird has actually made the lowly dandelion look beautiful.

Warning: This is a bummer post

Happy Easter to those who celebrate it. I called my daughter and she had been asleep, so I didn't keep her on the phone but a moment. I left my son a message and haven't heard back from him, which is par. But I'm feeling bummed for the moment.

I'm always so upbeat and happy. Most of the time. No, really it's really one of my most endearing qualities.

But most of my loved ones have lots of negative energy and that saddens me. My husband is the most absolute negative person I know. And a pessimist. And my Mother....

...for example today we were talking and I said, "Are you disappointed that I didn't plan anything special for Easter?" She says, "No, I'm used to it. And being by myself on holidays. You girls were always ripping the roads and Dad was always at the golf course."

"Ripping the roads." Her all-time favorite saying about Robin and me. I call it LIFE.

A little bit later I was talking about children and Easter egg hunts and I said "I can't wait to be a grandmother." To which she replies, "It's nothing special." I tuned the rest out and tried to polish up the balance of the conversation so as not to leave it on a sour note.

Just how long can you deflect this energy before it pierces your wall and begins to effect you?

The old me would have said, "Mother, do you realize just how negative you are? And that people probably didn't stay home because they didn't want to be around you?" And I probably have said that to her at least once. I was a hellacious teen. But for now, I'll just swallow it and smile and chalk it up to a Mother who only felt left out and hurt. sigh...

I've Got The Urge

Okay. (deep breath) So I've raised two beautiful children. My son has been on his own for a long time and my daughter is almost 18. Being a Mother suits me. Being in a supportive, nurturing role, that is. I'm that friend who'll straighten your collar, will always hug you when I see you, if appropriate. If not, you'll receive the warm two-handed shake. Being a Mother for so long has sharpened my intuition. You may get a surprise phone call from me just because I sensed you needed to talk or an out-of-the-blue package or email. I don't act on all my intuitions for fear I may be wrong and annoy somebody, and some are too strong to ignore. I'll soon be knee-deep in the 'empty nest' syndrome amd what will I do then with this urge to nurture?

What did I do with myself before I had someone to take care of? Oh... Never mind.

The urge to nurture may explain my newfound love for gardening and my trying to establish a home bird sanctuary. (I can imagine those who know me are letting out a resounding, "Duh!".) I nurture the tiny seeds in their tiny pots and lovingly sprinkle them with water, give 'em a proper dose of sunlight, and maybe a bit of flower kibble. I've covered the yard with hummingbird paraphenalia. I'm watching four nests of cardinals. And I have an agreement with the neighborhood cats. Their clandestine visits are inevitable, so I buy them food now, too. (koi pond idea on hold)

When the Mother Earth cracks open and tender seedlings begin to sprout, you'll find me doing the happy dance and squealing like a stuck pig. When I saw the first (migratory) hummingbird of the season? Second verse; same as the first.

It helps to have something else at home to take care of, and I still lovingly nurture my family somewhat but it's not the same and never will be. I can't really complain, because it's been a lovely run. It's just that it's ending far too soon.

I have learned to view a garden as a living thing, with its seasons and flamboyance, its subtleties and surprises, its lives and its deaths. It makes it easier for me to deal with this next chapter in my life.

Kathy P leaned into the car, "I'll give your Mother a ride home. I have to stop by the house (next door) anyway."

"That'll be great." I said.

I drive back from taking Mother to church and through the quiet streets of E-town. Everyone is in church and it's so still with light traffic.

Wow, Kathy P, my next door neighbor. She lost her dear Mother in January. I always looked up to her Mother, or Mrs P, as we called her. I'm not being coy about their last name. It's a long last name beginning with the letter P so we always shortened it. Mrs P reminded me of Lauren Bacall. When I was young, she'd wear those capri pants with the tiny slit on the side and starched blouses with the upturned color. And little flat shoes with beads on them. She had a husky voice and a deep throaty laugh that drew everybody in. She was from a very wealthy family and wore some beautiful family jewelry. But there wasn't one ounce of pretense about her. I was just happy to be in her presence. She taught me to play the piano and Mother taught her to sew.

Standing out in the yard I look toward their house and imagine us as kids playing in the yard, riding sleds and bicycles. Playing on the golf course or trying to play golf. And the one episode the whole neighborhood still remembers: when Kathy P and I made grilled cheese sandwiches in a tree stump. We used a skillet over an open fire.

We THOUGHT we put the fire out. Sirens from fire trucks indicated we were wrong.

Now Kathy P's a lovely woman with two grown sons. We have more than growing up together in common. We are also joined in that dastardly club of people who have recently lost a precious family member.

Sometimes I wish I could turn back the clock or live out my dreams when I was flying high above those oak trees. Hey, I think I see the one where we made the grilled cheese sandwiches.

Orange Crown Imperial - This unusual spring-flowering bulb makes a stunning accompaniment to tulips and daffodils. The Fritillaria imperialis Aurora features orange-red, bell-shaped flowers up to 3" across, growing in a cluster of six to eight flowers which, together, form the shape of a crown. Seldom seen in modern gardens, this bulb has been cultivated since the 17th century. What's more, in addition to its beautiful flowers, this variety's bulbs have been shown to keep moles and rodents away. Zones 3-8. 20+ cm bulbs.

This is the latest mysterious flower to bloom in Robin's Garden! Remember when it first broke through the ground I said it looked like an artichoke? I went to Brecks.com where she ordered most of her bulbs and looked it up under their Plant Finder and voila! They also come in a red, too. Striking, isn't it? I need to stake it as it's already 2 feet tall and was leaning this morning. This is so exciting.

There is a hummingbird outside my window. He/she has been back to this bird feeder, (which is 4 feet away from my computer)several times today. But I only have bird seed and they don't usually go for birdseed. They're mostly insect and nectar eaters. Around the front of the house a hummer is drinking from one of the sugar-water feeders. He's back again. Now there are two---no three! Gotta go check this out!

*I'm back. Have I mentioned how much Robin loved hummingbirds? The house was full of hummingbird knick-knacks and collectibles. The real hummingbird lovers call them "hummers". They migrate and come back to the south each spring. Usually taking the same route. So these must be Robin's "hummers".

A Mouse Story

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package.

"What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.

Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning.

"There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."

The mouse turned to the cow and said "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."

So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey.

The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.

The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever. Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.

But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer's wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.

The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember -- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk.

Nice little parable (I believe that's what you call it.)

Large climbing rose bushes are thriving and then there is a newly sown flower bed in the side yard I've taken to calling "Rob's Garden" that's just full of mystery. Ice Stick Tulips and Cotton Candy Tulips came up but then an odd little creature burst thru the soil disguised as an artichoke. It finally opened up enough to reveal six leetle flower buds the other day, but wtf is it? The mystery continues...

I went through tons of Robin's seed packets and began some starter pots of snowball marigolds, two kinds of morning glorys, sunflowers, forget-me-nots and a few others. The marigolds are coming up and so is one of the morning glorys. I'll move them outdoors when after May 5-- my grandmother always said after Cinco de Mayo, it's safe to plant. (She also said don't go barefoot in any month that has the letter "R" in it)

I digress again, but thank you, my dear Robin. I really enjoy taking care of these flowers and I joyfully await the surprises you left behind.