Of Radishes and Roses

Have I mentioned lately that I'm thankful for flowers? One of my favorite parts of our yard is the three rose bushes that were already planted in the back corner. Add two more to the mix ( from my wonderful friend Becca, who gave me many other perennials, most of which I've killed) and we've got a decent rose garden. Enough, in fact, that Abigail and I go out there almost every day to pick some. Her picking consists of pulling all the petals off every rose she can reach, but she's good at it.

She's also good at eating hummus. As long as good is defined as "wiping it everywhere after we tire of eating".

You could also blame her daddy, since she was distracted watching him. I get distracted watching him as well. So I can understand the forgetful, contemplative state. 

 Speaking of lawn mowing, this is our garden.

Right there, I promise, underneath the mounds of hay.

Which I realized gives me a headache any time I spend a lot of time in it.

Live and learn. :o) There are actually beans and peas and corn and tomatoes and a couple of other vegetables growing among the hay (which was scattered to help with weeds and moisture but the debate is still raging in our household as to the actual effect).

This is the first produce picked. It was, well, radishey. 

 

I'm hoping for better things later.

So is Abigail.
Who, by the way, has discovered a passion for flower arranging.
She 'helps' to bring them in with her wagon

Then carefully pulls off all the petals

and chooses just the right spot in the bowl to place them. Three guesses about which bowl was hers. 

Then she helps clean up by wiping everything off onto the floor. It's a huge success. Every time.

Almost as much fun as washable markers. Almost.