Flowers Always

I must have flowers, always, and always. ― Claude Monet Natasha is camping this week and I have chosen to stay behind with the furry kids. We are still somewhat discombobulated from the move to a new place, mostly schedule-wise and remembering where everything is in the kitchen. Luckily, I know the refrigerator and Gibbs still knows the smell of chicken. Before Natasha left, we spent time shopping for patio flowers. We are behind schedule, or at least I am. IRead more

The Short Ones Object (v.)

Oh why did you leave us here, tall one? Out on the patio by ourselves. Alone. It’s cold out here. Extremely cold. Polar vortex cold. We object. The icicles are shivering their way loose from the roof. Soon, one will try to stab through our cover. We can’t see under here. The light is dim. Oh why did you leave us here, tall one? It was once warm out here, months ago. Seems like forever. Sadly, the leaves on theRead more

Leftovers

There are leftovers on the patio. Winter pansies. How long will they live? In the summer, the patio gives extra room and refuge among the flowers. In the winter, it lays bare. Gibbs and Ziva are not fans of the winter patio. The cold air and lack of human furniture to hide under make it less than appealing. The kids give it their last shot outside. It doesn’t last long before they return to the warmth of their inside home.Read more