|The garden has some weak blooms. The heat and the Santa Ana winds|
are taking their toll.
|I have surrendered to the morning glory vine. My garden is not resisting any more.|
My home will soon not be mine.
|Here's to new beginnings. Getting there is half the fun. My garden was a neglected solid dirt hill of|
waist high weeds. A blank canvas. When I look at what has grown so happily it gives me great joy
and pleasure to pass it on.