I don't know about you, but toward the middle of August, I am DONE with gardening. My best flowers have faded, my weeding has become haphazard at best and it is just too darn hot! But some areas have increased in lushness in just a few weeks, for example...
This is our dear little potting shed. Last year, James and I built the cedar arbor from the trees on the property, of course he did MOST of the work. The garden surrounding it was non-existent, but now it is dense and happy!
This is the olde red door from England, on the potting shed.
I love anything from England, land of my ancestors.
I don't know why I call this a potting shed, I never pot anything in it. It is more of a gathering place for garden books and my own artwork and craft. I should call it "Mamsey Bears Mercantile".
In fact, next year, in the spring, it will become a Mercantile. We are having an EVENT... It will be an open-house and book-signing for my new book,
"Mamsey Bear and Mopkin"
I will tell you more about that later, you are invited!
I hope that by then, the morning glories and climbing roses that I planted around the cedar arbor will have clambered up the cedar posts, and reached the red tin roof of the shed. I had high hopes that this arbor would be covered in grapevines by now.. but this is all I got so far.
But the trusty Morning Glories, can always be depended upon!
Isn't anything with heart-shaped leaves perfectly fine?
Creeping Jenny and wandering strawberries carpet the stone and brick surface beneath the arbor,
and the wisteria covered the little arbor off the porch.
We didn't have a hive of bees this year, but we did get some handsome dragonflies,
and the pergola that James built in the Spring is slathered in vines.
For the first time in history, I did not KILL my potted plants on the porch!
All is well with the new duck family..
and the Peabody boys have lost ALL their glorious tail feathers for the year.
Now they belong to me...
whatever shall I do with these??
I will think on it as we drive to North Carlina..
Must dash! We are on our way to Black Mountain for the Sourwood Festival.