It Ain't John Steinbeck's Crepes Of Wrath
One of the things I really enjoy is walking out into the back yard or the front yard with my secateurs and cutting long-stemmed roses to fill our many vases at Casa Authorblog. I guess another thing that makes it very special is the fact that everything in our garden was planted by us when we built this home.
I planned the garden before the house was built. I sketched each garden bed and each prospective plant on the architectural scale drawings. I sketched where the garden gate would be, I sketched the curve of the pathway, I sketched the irregular garden bed that would follow the contours and angles of the long driveway and the walls.
So, yes, this garden is very close to my heart.
And because we are in mid-summer here, the fearsome heat last week literally fried every rose that was blooming. It looked - as it always does on those fry-an-egg-on-the-pavement days of the Australian summer - as if someone had taken an oxy-acetylene flame to every bloom on every bush.
So the youngest Authorbloglet made amends with these paper roses.
Visit Luiz Santilli Jr for the home of Today's Flowers.