Bliss

The peonies in my yard are so gorgeous and fragrant this year that I feel I don't fully deserve them in my life. We're in the middle of an awful storm -- we spent the entire afternoon yesterday in the basement during five consecutive tornado warnings -- and today it's raining like nobody's business. Peonies are hardy but sensitive creatures, their giant blooms already nearly too heavy for the plant supporting them, so I worried they might not make it through the storm. I ran out in the rain and clipped six or eight more blossoms, putting them in little vases around the house. I played with the "curves" of this image in PhotoShop until the background didn't show. She deserves nothing less.

The symbol of first love

I'm taking the boys to visit my parents for the long weekend, and sadly I think I'm going to miss my lilac bush's moment of full glory. (See the buds on the tip, about ready to unclench their little purple fists?)

My grandma had an enormous lilac bush in her backyard and I found it just entrancing, and I always said when I had a home of my own I would get one. So the first Mother's Day in our first house, Erik planted one for me.

Additionally, it's further proof that I can grow a living thing without causing it irreparable damage or death. As supporting evidence, I cite the peace lily I've had for nearly one (1) year in my dining room, and my two (2) kids. The three doomed cactuses from my sixth grade bedroom are beyond the statute of limitations.

Happy Memorial Day. I hope to post some photos from the Hibbing DylanFest when I return.