The eyeballs they will not stay open. I do not know what is wrong with them. They keep doing this. Please stop now. Stay open. Now. Plz.
Yesterday's picture has a story.
Back in this history, several decades ago, all the way back to March 2015, the snow she did fall. The front line of foundation plantings they were gone. Flat indeed, broken, twisted, and pretty ugly. So Mr. E ripped them up lock stock and trunk. Into a pile they did go.
The Etherknitter went to yon nurseries to find new plants. Here a holly there a pieris, everywhere azalea azalea, and more. The soil she was old. Twenty years tired she was. So wife told husband to harvest all the compost and mix it willynilly into the line of dirt for shrubs-to-be. It was done. He waled hard at the dirt.
They planted new life into the front line. Water came and water soaked. Two weeks passed us by, to show sprouts of something scattered all about amongst the shrubs. This savvy gardener knows squash when she sees it. She thinned them, getting ready to jank all the interlopers out. Compost hitchhikers they were, and copious.
Then a trip was taken. Arrival home showed prodigious growth. Said cucurbits were now feet long and entrancing. The gardener, one Etherknitter, left them, growing intensely curious. What kind of squash came here? Some plants were hidden by lawn trees. Others in full sun. No one putting on dresses or colors to tell her what they were.
She let them live. Soon the complete area was awash in squash leafs. And vines. And still no clues. Until one day, the fruit they all began to form. And then there were ghost pumpkins and yeller pumpskins and tall ones and squat ones and ones that would not sit upright. Turns out there was gourd sex somewhere in this all. The decorations from Thanksgiving tables past gave birth and multiplied. Harvest upon harvest and surprise upon surprise, and then free decor abounded.
A guest from Netherlands came to the table on the Day of Giving Thanks. She was given the task of decor. And so decor was done, from lands of Nether. It was good.
The picture came forth, then forevermore marking a remarkable summer of suspense, and gifts, and joy, and surprise, and lesson in how to live spontaneous fun with life.
And it was blogged.