I cannot describe Mother's Day as anything other than beautiful. I was lucky enough to have both of my mums- mine and John's mum- at our place for mother's day. The weather was glorious...you know, the sort that makes you feel like crying with sheer joy and delight. It always makes me feel nostalgic. Reminding me of the times as a child when I would just stand and marvel at how wonderful everything was, and still is, that God has created. Skies of deepest blue...my words could never do it justice but I am sure you know what I mean.
A very beautiful bunch of red roses appeared on my bed at the crack of dawn. John is always too excited to wait until there is enough light to actually see them. So sweet! My very thoughtful and clever Erica made me a lovely mother's day breakfast of pancakes, jam and cream. Delicious! And, I was given some more very nice gifts from all of the kids.
There is such a soft light in the garden at the moment. The light that arrives with Autumn and disappears about the first month of spring. It seems to bring out the colour in everything and makes all the textures stand out more. 
There's something so very nice about rusty metal, especially if it is on white. 
I have a love/hate relationship with terracota. Sometimes I find the strong orangey, earthy tones a little too much but I think once it has aged and become mottled with green and white it is much nicer. I sometimes paint some white on the pots to speed up the process.
A splendid week to everyone and don't forget to stop and soak up all the beauty around you, Angela.
Sounds like you had such a lovely day Angela. It looks like you have been very busy in your garden. It would be lovely to be spending time in the garden at the moment - the weather is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteDear Angela!
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely day you had! I have to wait for "my day" a few weeks since it`s celebrated at the 25 of may in Sweden :-)
I agree with you when it comes to terracotta - white and greenish with some moss on it makes it so much better.
Oh I soaked up on the beaty of your story! Your description of the weather and the garden sounds so lovely that I want to catch a flight bound for Down Under at once. It`s strange though to hear you talk about autumn since we are in the middle of spring.....but I think that weather wise it`s about the same. The loveliest time of the year!!!!
I am so impressed with your roses. How do you do it? I have about 5-6 rosebushes in my garden that I found buried under the weed and nettles this weekend. I think they are very old. They are still "alive" because they are showing tiny green leaves but I am quite sure that I didn`t see any roses on them last summer. They could be early blooming of course since we didn`t move in until july.....but I think the problem is something else. Could they be too old? Should I try to improve the soil? Pruning? Compost? Or dig them up and plant new somewhere else? I love to hear you`re view on this!
Lots of love to you!
Jeanette
Angela what a great Mother's day surrounded by loved ones.
ReplyDeleteThe garden is looking so good. Love aging the terracotta with a dash of white paint.
Alison
Such beautiful words my friend... This weather has been so amazing and being in your garden must be breathtaking... I have missed you today... (giggle)....Love Cathy xx
ReplyDeletelovely pieces in your garden....it is such an inspiration.....yogurt rubbed into terracota is supposed to give it that green aged look very quickly....haven't tried it myself....so damp here it manages on its own....take care...
ReplyDeleteHi Angela Louise! You have a fantastic blog! It' so strange for me to read that winter is coming! I'm Italian and here summer is coming! You have lovely pictures!
ReplyDeleteI'm a new blogger with passion for home decor and crafts. I haven't a garden but a balcony with a beautiful overview over the roofs of Lucca (Tuscany). Please excuse my bad English! Italians are very bad in speaking foreign languages!
It's a pleasure for me to have found you! Good night! Or may be good morning??
Ciao
Vale
Interesting reead
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