In the process of building the new deck, a few garden-things got tromped on (like the strawberries), or removed (like the lovely but MESSY and totally in the way camellia tree), or…crudely and abusively relocated. Like a bed of irises just under the overhang of the old deck.
They got dug up, tossed into a pile for a while, ignored, stepped on, rained on, ignored some more, and eventually tossed into an unused corner of the garden…not planted or tended to in any way, but tossed there along with a whole bunch of loose dirt like so much trash…
They’re blooming.
Of course, the bed of irises that DIDN’T get abused is looking even lovelier:
But I am still quite impressed.
In other news: I actually did a pose in yoga class today that strongly resembles this pose. No, really, I did. Except I’m not a guy, and we weren’t in the Bahamas, and I’m sure my form sucked, but hey! I balanced on my arms like that and stuck my feet out like that! Sorta. Within the universe of that. And I’m 47 years old! So I’m feeling pretty okay about that.
In other other news: the novel isn’t done yet. (“Still not king…“)