After leaving Britton and Holly's wedding we drove up to Wilmington to see "The Merry Wives of Windsor" at Greenfield Lake Amphitheatre. It is a lovely setting, and I am surprised that I have not discovered it before. It is a truly typical southern setting, with spanish moss draping from the pines and the cedar trees in the lake.



We got there an hour before showtime so that I could take a wander down by the lake and take some photographs. I made a note to go back as it looks like it is going to be one of my favorite spots for taking wildlife shots. Prior to getting to the theatre we stopped at a grocery store and bought some wine and snacks (as the ads said it was allowed) and we made it to our seats and settled ourselves in. To our absolute delight (although not to DH's surprise as he was almost expecting it) two of our dear friends appeared Emmy G and her husband Brian with their absolutely charming two-year old son Preston.



We relocated to a more family friendly location and chatted while the sun went down behind the pines turning the spanish moss into ethereal sillhouettes.



The lights on the stage dimmed and the cast entered the stage. One of the other reasons we were here is that one of the cast is a friend of DH (his "unofficial" drama teacher in his arts group, however she has just recently been interviewed for the real job). Bri, seen here to the left of the stage in the orange skirt.



It was a curates egg of a play, some parts of it were excellent, some not so good. I have always said Shakespere done right is beautiful (and I have seen the Royal Shakespere Company in action so I know of which I speak) however it is sometimes difficult in even professional situations. If anyone ever wants to see Shakespere done right one only has to look to a Kenneth Brannaugh version "Much ado about nothing" is absolutely priceless. Despite the shortcomings of the play it was a delightful evening, (despite the heat), a charming setting, the best ever company, wine and snacks and good times. Finally I suppose one can attest that the child of teachers is raised well (Emily is an English teacher now an assistant principal and Brian is a History teacher) but Preston (two years old remember) sat and watched (and I don't mean fell asleep in his stroller, or messed around under the seats) on his momma's lap an almost two hour Shakespere play, every time I glanced sideways to look at him he was sat there transfixed. That if nothing else is what I will take away from the night, Preston is one incredible young boy, and I have no doubt has a bright future ahead of him.

This Saturday my husband was preparing to leave to go to his fundraising car wash when he dashed back into the house having bumped into a wasps nest. The nest, lovingly crafted by paper wasps, had been attached to the porch light and a wisteria tendril but forces of nature, or perhaps just weight, had caused it to drop from the light and it was now dangling directly in front of the door. I advised the husband (who had a very bad experience with yellow jackets as a child and is therefore understandably nervous around any wasp) to simply duck under it to get to the car and I would deal with it later. He called me later to suggest all manner of ways to dispose of the nest including (a foolhardy plan if ever there was one) blasting it with a hose. However, I am quite fond of paper wasps, they are quite beneficial in the garden, for the most part, if you leave them alone they will leave you alone, and to be honest it can be a soothing sound sometimes, while sat quietly in the garden, listening to one dilligently tearing off fibers from a piece of wood (usually my support poles for my plants). So I rigged together an old broom handle and a plastic hook contraption and managed to place the nest back into the wisteria far away from the door (not an easy task you understand and it took about 30 minutes of trying, alas it didn't help trying to explain to the wasps that I was trying to save their nest.) I noticed this morning that they have begun work on a new nest on the light, in exactly the same spot so I am wondering if perhaps they have abandoned the one I saved, I suppose only time will tell.

It occurred to me at the time though that some creatures are treated with distain simply because of their names. I have never been stung by a paper wasp (although I have by a yellow jacket) and I think perhaps that they simply have a bad rap because of the reputation of their not so friendly cousins. If I had referred to them as "paper flies" perhaps the husband would have ignored them. I met someone once with a deadly fear of bats, and after a short conversation I advised "perhaps if you just think of them as mice with wings" she responded "I am scared of mice too." There is no helping some people.

Weeds suffer the same fate as many insects. If in a casual conversation I mentioned "you know the Taraxacum Officinale looked glorious today, their blooms were so pretty and the bees adored them" many would think I had some sort of exotic plant in my garden that I had purchased and nurtured and was proud of. If I told you then that I was actually talking about dandelions you might in a fit of rage go racing for the Round Up. For many years I have dug plants from my lawn and placed them into my landscaping, thinking that if they can survive a twice monthly haircut and thrive then nothing I can do to them will make a difference. Most of the time I will make attempts to identify them so that I can call them by their proper name, as opposed to "oh it's a weed I dug up out of the lawn." One such plant is Cinquefoil, a charming North Carolina native that now thrives in my front flower bed. It is a joyous sight in spring when its hairy hand-like leaves give way to masses of pale yellow flowers which sway daintily in the breeze.



I transplant and use many so-called "weeds" in my garden, violets, oxalis, trumpet vine, sweet autumn clematis, snake-root, and yes dandelions and I encourage other gardeners to do the same. I find it fascinating that many will spend a small fortune on plants and fertilizers in an attempt to grow a specimen that simply does not thrive in our area when there are a plethora of native options that will thank you for giving them a place to grow that isn't mowed down twice a month. Would a rose by any other name smell as sweet? You tell me, after all a squirrel is just a rat with better PR.

As I mentioned yesterday the caterpillars have now turned into chrysalids and I will have my usual anxious wait for them to hatch. I say anxious because there are all manner of things which can attack them in their vulnerable state. Last year it was a wasp, who gnawed off the bottom of the chrysalis and then proceeded to empty out the contents and take them away (no doubt to feed young in a nest somewhere). I was horrified. Also last year the fire ants climbed up the stems of grass on which they were attached and attempted to bite through the casing. I solved that problem by placing a rather thick layer of vaseline around the grass stem both above and below the chrysalis, which much to my delight (necessity is the mother of invention don't you know), worked! Here is the only chrysalis that I could get a shot of.



I know that my garden must seem like "all lilies all the time" but at this time of year it is (much to my delight). The orientals have begun to bloom, including this pink spotted one in the rose bed (it began to bloom on Monday so it is already beginning to fade)



And the ones that will drive my husband insane with their heady scent "Casablanca" once all of these are in flower you can smell them from down the street



One of the rewards of "sympathy" plant buying (buying discounted plants because you feel sorry for them) is that most of the time the plants reward you with glorious blooms, like these dahlia which were growing out of their bags at Wal Mart and were reduced to $2.50 per bag. First a creamy yellow with pink accents, which sort of reminds me of a moppy headed child.



and this deep burgundy,



Even my rescue tomato patio pots are doing well (a combination of tomato/pepper plants and various herbs which were I think $3.00 a piece) and the tomatoes are putting on fruit.



More rescue plants include these sunflowers (bird food volunteers) which were coming up in the lawn, so I dug them up to rescue them and placed them in a pot on the edge of the lawn.



On Friday I went to Lowes to pick up some bird food and of course could not resist visiting the "dead plant" section of the store (where all the plants are reduced.) I have to admit that I began to worry about my sanity at that point because a) I have said that I am "done" planting for quite some time because I simply have no more room and b) it was in the middle of a rather nasty thunderstorm, with quite heavy rain and some wicked looking lightening yet the dedicated (or insane you choose) bargain shopper that I am I was out there in the rain perusing large METAL racks of discounted plants for bargains. As it was I got some gazania (which I love) some large gallon size cleome (which the butterflies love) and lots of sweet potato vine (which the golden beetles love). As usual I was then faced with a large amount of plants that I had to find room for. This usually results in me wandering around various parts of my garden with a couple of pots and a trowel in my hands muttering to myself (I have long since stopped worrying about what the neighbors think of me). As it was I found a place for the gazania in a pot on the driveway where the pansies had faded, and in various spots on the patio. A couple of the sweet potato vines ended up in containers on the patio but then I was left with four cleome and four sweet potato vines. In yet another wander around the yard I happened to go by the deck, where a plant stand with some empty pots was languishing. The proverbial light bulb went off above the proverbial head and I ended up with this



So I said to myself "no more trips to Lowes" whereupon I laughed at the sheer absurdity of that thought and enjoyed the afternoon. The air was thick with dragonflies, the butterflies were enjoying the lantana and the birds were getting impatient with me to go inside so they could visit the feeders. All in all it was a pleasant weekend.

The boys are doing well, fat and happy. I have to admit at this point that I have a sort of point blindness, I always refer to caterpillars as "boys" and butterflies are always "girls". I have no idea how I come to resolve this particular strangeness, but there it is, my caterpillars are always boys, my butterflies are always girls. Anyway the boys are doing well, they are chowing down on the fennel like there is no tomorrow. I have five of them right now (much less from previous years - should I be concerned?) Nevertheless they are fat, they are happy, and they have a never ending supply of food.



As things progressed I noticed that my boys were going missing, which greatly worried me. However, in no time at all I realized that they had quickly become chrysalids. I will have to do a little research on this to discover if things have happened this quickly in the past but it appears to me that these things were eggs only two weeks ago (I am getting old, time flies), perhaps it is the heat, (it is unbearably hot here right now), and things are speeding up, but it seems awfully quick to me.

My "bog standard" canna are blooming, these totally reliable and almost indestructible babies are as usual blooming up a storm. I love their blooms, they remind me of the tye dye t-shirts of my youth.



With the demise of the Asiatic Lilies the Orientals have now taken their place, and are scattered all over the garden. Out front, on the bed that edges the garden from the road this pink beauty is waving its head with a bloom the size of a dinner plate.



Also in that bed is this, absolutely glorious huge, rich, delicious, thick as custard bloom



Out back the double "fulva" daylilies are blooming on the beds surrounding the patio. While they occasionally get stuck and look like an explosion in a mattress factory they are also incredibly reliable.



Also in the patio the beebalm is blooming and is gathering lots of customers who make it live up to its name. These plants, by the way, were bought from an unknown seller on e-bay many moons ago, and have been absolutely wonderful since (but they are a member of the mint family so it is a no brainer that they will thrive despite all manner of abuse).



In another "vignette" in my garden the caladium that were bought at 50% off and growing in their bags (poor things), are now thriving by the statue of St. Francis in the area of the garden reserved for the graves of much missed pets. St. Francis right now is guarding the grave of Misty, the kitten, who was hit by a car. The caladiums remind me of her beauty.



It is unbearably hot, chores in the garden (such as planting today) had to be done in 30 minutes increments lest the sweat pouring over one's face drown you. 30 minutes of work, retreat into the house (and the AC) cool down, back outside for 30 minutes. Tomorrow will be the same, however there are tomatoes to pick, climbing spinach to plant and more green beans to plant. Such is life in a garden.

It was this weekend, and much anticipated, (I think we have had three stag nights with Britton thus far, not sure, they all tend to blur into one). Anyway Saturday was the big day and Britton seemed to be quite delighted about the whole thing.



While his mum (in her best mother of the groom outfit) danced in the parking lot as any mum would



Holly "high fived" her friend who had driven all the way from Florida for the day



While the combined West Columbus/South Columbus High School Jazz Band played on.



And Britton, being the typical band director, watched the band, at the expense of everything else.



And perhaps meanwhile contemplated a slice of the "special" cake, which depicted him and his new wife on a football field in front of a band.



While the bridesmaids shed their pesky high heels for much more comfortable flip flops.



Britton then kindly modelled the t-shirt I bought him (while Holly wasn't looking)



Then time for a dance



Then into the car



and away to begin their new life together.



It was a privilege to be with these two wonderful people on Saturday as they began their journey as a married couple. I hope they are happy, I hope they can find the strength and the courage that my husband and I have found over the years to maintain a marriage and a high school band at the same time (it is not easy). My best to them both.