This morning as the Husband and I walked home, I got to see what others may see as they come to our yard. Ooooh, right? Last year those bushes of pink daisies were a third to a half in size of what they are now. Until last month,  the bush on the right and the one beside the green pot (which is an olive tree) had no flowers at all. Amazing, huh? The white alyssum flowers in the foreground are all volunteers. I love volunteers. Next month, we ought to be seeing other volunteers blooming in the yard. Much of that green stuff you see are California poppy sprouts. Imagine them all in bloom. All that orange. Wowza! I'm linking up with Our World Tuesday . Click here to check out the meme. Thank you, Our World Tuesday team.

Yesterday afternoon, while picking up pillow cushions and doing this and that to prepare the backyard for rain this week, I came across some cool things that seemed to shout, "Look at me! Look at me!" So, of course, I went to get the camera. Click. Click. Click. I'm linking up with All Seasons , a weekly meme hosted by Jesh at Artworks from Jesh St.G. Click here to check out Jesh and her meme. For the participants list, click here . Thanks, Jesh!

Ding-dong! This morning Molly the Cat and I were traipsing about in the backyard when the doorbell rang. Molly inspected the perimeter of the yard, making sure all was well, while I checked how much the garlic had grown in its pot. I'd spied a bit of green yesterday morning just before I stepped inside, thinking I'd look for sure when I went back outside. But I didn't go back outdoors. I let melancholy rob the rest of my day. This morning I woke up still not wanting to make an effort. What good is that? I told myself. There are roses that need pruning. I visualized myself getting the pruning shears and small saw out from the shed, as well as the rubbing alcohol or hydrogen peroxide from the bathroom to sterilize the equipment. Okay, up and at 'em. Downstairs, opening the drapes, I noticed the layer of ice on the rooftop next door.  That settled that. I fed Molly her breakfast and made coleslaw. I've found that preparing part or all of our afternoon/ evening meals

Although there are moments when it seems like the sky is falling, especially when it comes to our federal government, which seems more so lately with the lack of leadership in our executive and legislative branches. Those currently in power seem hell-bent on funding the Haves and getting rid of the Have-Nots; hence, the folks clinging on to the sinking middle may feel they must choose between siding with the sanctimonious greedy and mighty insecure lackeys or being true to the Good Samaritan messages that our society preaches. Either/or. Frustration abounds. Pitchforks and torches come out. Usually the meek, the kind, the underdog are mobbed first and continually until the growling breaks out among those in power. Or, until enough of the mob breaks lose of the spell of curses it is under and defy the powerful that cast the spell. I suspect that people who hate are scared. But, of what? A loss of property? A world of peace and love? Death? Is it as simple as fearing they will be pu

Today I share the review I wrote at Goodreads.com this afternoon about The Kitchen God's Wife by Amy Tan.  See you tomorrow.   The Kitchen God's Wife by Amy Tan My rating: 5 of 5 stars It's true what people say about Amy Tan: She's one grand storyteller! This is the second novel that I've read of hers. I admit it has been sitting on my shelf for several years. When I first bought it, I read several pages and put it down because the conflicting relationship between the daughter and mother was so relatable. I didn't think I could handle the story. So years later, nearly 2 years after my mom's spirit soared into the universe, I picked up the novel. When I finally went beyond the first few chapters, I was surprised to see that the main story was about Winnie's (the mother) life in China during WWII. She is telling her story of heartbreaking secrets to her daughter because Winnie's best friend, Helen, who lived through much of the past