Home again, home again...

After a week away, it always feels good to come home.

So much changes in a week.

More weeds.

Grass in major need of mowing.

I look around and see work.

But its my work, and I choose it.

I choose the weeds and the dirt over panty hose and paper, 

the color of iris over the taupe of cubicle walls,

rain, wind and sunshine over air-conditioned buildings with windows that cannot be opened.

I choose gardens, home-grown vegetables, stained knees, and dirty fingernails.

I am so lucky that I have the option.

All the bearded iris bulbs were a wedding present from Uncle Ralph and Fran.

Iris from Walster Way Iris Garden: Maltby, Washington

Reminds me of a creamsicle

One of my favorites

 Russian iris. (Not from Uncle Ralph)

Peas!

Strawberries!

Good to be home!