The phone rang.
The 3 year old answered, and brought me the phone.
It was a call from the secretary of the children's program at church, wondering if I was planning on appearing at the meeting that began at 10. Oops. (I've just had this job for two weeks, and it still hasn't sunk in completely.) On the bright side, it only took 15 minutes to get out of the house and on the road, and I was there in 20. Only 50 minutes late. Doh.
From there on out, the day was pretty much shot. I managed to stick my foot in my mouth after the meeting and make someone Really. Mad. You know--so mad that when they look you in the eye, the rest of the room disappears, and all you see is their stare? Cried quietly most of the way home. (I have a tendency to do that when someone gets Really Mad at me, especially when I was only sharing something I had experienced. I'm not one to go for people or pick fights.) Managed to get a few more things done around the house, and get together a basic list for shopping night. (I go without the kids, pick up my mom, and we have a nice evening doing some basic shopping and spend a couple hours at the Stitchin' Sisters UFO night, gabbing and knitting, with an occasional, eensy weensy bit of stash enhancement.) Left an hour late for town (6:30 instead of 5:30), barely made it before one of my stops closed, went to Stitchin' Sisters, finished the shopping, and headed home at about 10:20pm. Two hours later than usual. Don't you hate it when your day starts out so very, very well, and then it ends so very, very poorly? So do I.
So, in leiu of something far more interesting, I leave you with a couple of photos that give my heart a warm glow. After yesterday, I need it.
Vanhouttei Spirea, about to bloom in my yard. Back when Vern and I were newlyweds, taking evening walks when I was expecting our first, we would walk through the old neighborhood in Springville where we lived, and look at all of the beautiful things blooming. There were cheery cherry trees with pink carnation blooms hanging like impossible petticoats. There were copper roses that bloomed bright yellow or intense red and yellow. Peonies, lilacs, and spireas, looking for all the world like white fountains frozen in time. I could just see the early Utah pioneers cutting branches of spirea to make bouquets for the May brides, and I've dreamed of having one of those beauties in my own yard for years. And now there's one, right outside my window, doing what spireas do, and making me smile a simple, silly, happy smile.
Hosta "June".
Lamium "White Nancy" with chocolate mint. Taking this photo made me feel a bit like Jane Brocket, but it didn't turn out as nicely as I imagined. I loved the smooth, round mint leaves and the lacy, detailed lamium growing together.
This is another dream come true--and it's almost bigger than life. The little bleeding heart I photoed a few weeks ago is now much larger than I am, and makes me so happy to see. I've never seen a plant grow so huge, so fast. It must like the eastern exposure and mostly-compost soil.
And lastly, the funniest thing I've seen in a long time:
Have a wonderful Wednesday, everyone.
(And keep those name suggestion coming! There are still two more days in the contest.)
