In our travels on our vacation, one stop took us to an heirloom garden where flowers and veggies popular a century or so ago were featured at Fort Vancouver in Vancouver, WA.
It was quite lovely.
There were plants that looked familiar and then some that we’d never seen before, like this gorgeous purple poppy. I want some of these!
The artichokes grew in spiky splendor along with staples like corn and potatoes.
They had the loveliest hollyhocks, growing contained where they were supposed to. While I gazed on in admiration, I saw Captain Cavedweller shudder. One year his mom and I both planted hollyhocks… apparently about three times as many as we should have and both of our yards were quickly overtaken with the towering blooms. I’ve been banned from ever again in this lifetime planting hollyhocks (I my mother-in-law was, too) so we have to admire them from afar.
I fell in love with this bright flower. I just loved the color and, of course, realized later I forgot to right down the name of the plant.
Anyone have any ideas? The way they bloomed against the summer sky was absolutely gorgeous!
Last week, Captain Cavedweller and I took some time off and escaped to a big city where I can shop to my heart’s content and he can eat things like fall-off-the bone delicious ribs and the best french fries known to man.
Driving to our destination, we enjoyed the scenery and I may have asked (okay, more like yelled “stop the car!”) to pull over a few times to snap photos.
This is one of a beautiful wheat field set against the gorgeous summer sky.
I’ll be sharing more vacation photos and stories this week, just as soon as I get my head back on straight and our laundry done!
Today, apparently, is going to be one of those days.
It started out with me oversleeping.
Despite my frenzied efforts to put some hustle in it, Captain Cavedweller was standing at the door doing his best not to remind me we were already late leaving the house as I was hopping around trying to put on my second shoe, grab my purse and find the car keys.
We got in the car only to have the gas light come on. Guess who drove it home last night on empty? (And it wasn’t CC.)
And just because it was off to a great morning, I, of course, choose the longest possible route to the gas station.
By the time the attendant filled our nearly empty gas tank and we got back on the road, CC was anxiously watching the clock. He has never, in all the years I’ve known him, been late for work. Ever. Not even close.
If I didn’t get a move-on, it was possible today would be the day.
Pulling into the parking lot at my office (across the street from his), I started to grab one of three heavy boxes in the back seat I need to mail today. (The post office is across the street so it’s easier to take them to my office then go to the post office when it opens than trek out to the car and have to lug them to the post office – at least in my mind.)
“What are you doing?” he asked, practically jogging in place, eager to hurry me along.
“I need to mail these today,” I said, trying to stack a second box on top of the first.
With a long-suffering sigh, he grabbed the second and third boxes and managed to restrain himself from giving me a nudge forward.
Wisely, I managed to keep my mouth shut and trot after him, or as fast as I can trot in my heels.
As luck would have it, I couldn’t find the key to access the employee door. He continued to glance nervously at his watch while I fumbled in my purse. Finally, I found the key and he escorted me to the elevator, dumped the boxes and ran out the door. According to my watch, he should have made it with a few seconds to spare.
I am often reminded I am married to a good man. One who loves me despite all my faults and annoyances. Especially on days like today.
And days like today, thank goodness, don’t happen too often.
Today also happens to be my sister’s birthday. She would have been 57 today. One of her greatest pleasures in life was watching Elvis Presley movies.
So because it is one of those days, and because it’s her birthday, here’s a little Elvis…
Savvy Entertaining 