Everything sublime is as difficult as it is rare. Baruch Spinoza

Friday, May 29, 2009

Bearded Iris & Sundry Items

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.  
Claude Monet

The bearded iris are opening their blooms. I love iris and have many, but my blooms are down because I need to divide. Aren't they beautiful!

Yesterday, my day of thinks. I had no time or energy for thinks. My poor brain was muddled from two consecutive late nights and I had all I could do to function at the basic level for the tasks ahead of me for the day. I was too busy and too tired to even stroll through my list of favorite blogs. I simply am not able to miss my needed sleep anymore, especially two nights in a row.

If you look at this blog  We Go Together Like Peas and Carrots  you will read what kept me up late Wednesday night. Never a dull moment in the suburbs!

So I am slow moving this morning as well, but the sun is shining, the iris are blooming and I have a good cup of coffee before me. I should wake up soon. Today there will not be any pearls of wisdom or words laden with wit flying through my fingers to the keyboard. Alas, all I have is a good morning to you all and make it a great day!


  1. take a nap - tomorrow will still be there.

  2. I sat on the mower instead. It's about the same thing!

  3. These are lovely. They reminded me of the purple iris' in my grandmother's back yard that smell like purple popsicles. I wonder, do yours smell the same?

  4. I had to go out and smell them. No they don't, but I wish they did!

  5. I need to plant some irises...I love all the variety of color plus they are so unique. I have to go read about the pit bull now...don't blame you for wanting a nap today. Suburbs? LOL..is that what the country in Minnesota is called?


I really appreciate the concept and sentiment behind awards, but I cannot participate in them anymore. I have too may and I have not got the time to devote to participating properly. To all who have honored me, I am grateful but I don't have seven more things to tell anyone about myself! And I'm a terrible passer-oner.