I totally garden for the indoors.
Meaning: I choose my flowers based on “cutability.” {Yes, that’s a word in this house.}
This species of “daisyus weedus” I started from seed almost 10 years ago just after David and I were married. The blooms have come to mark the first signs of spring for me, and I must admit I’m a little attached to this plant. After surviving two moves, it had been in a pot on our patio it’s entire stay at this house. I hope I just planted it in its forever home.
I fully expect it to take over the yard within two years time.
Bitty E assured me this was a “safe place” for us to put the vase. Riiiiiight.
It remained there until she was distracted by other pursuits, and I was distracted by the thought of toddlers covered in broken glass.
Also: this is either a very specific and new type of torture, or “gymnastics camp,” as Bitty E tells me they are playing.
But perhaps they are one in the same?
