• Vivid yellow dandelions, a pure, pleasurable treat to the senses. A pox upon those who see this precious flower as a weed.
  • So… the hubby reads the post of yesterday and disappears from the house for a few minutes. I wondered where he had gotten to. He really is a rather nice ogre, after all, all things considered. I peeked my head outside the front door to see what he was doing, only to find him pottering around on the lawn, snipping up the dandelions to make a little bouquet for me. He had to mow the lawn soon anyway, so he thought he might as well save them and give them to me to enjoy for a few days more instead of pulverizing them with the mower. Isn’t that sweet?

    So, rather than putting up a drawing today, I present to you a photo of some of the wonderful dandelions that adorned my front yard, scattered amongst the green. Still fresh, vivid in their pure, wonderful yellowness – a weed to some, visual and imaginative bliss to me. Van Gogh had his sunflowers, I have my dandelions. I love ’em to bits. I can probably tell you why, too, but perhaps that is a story for another day. Thank you for the dandelions, sweetie.

    I might go through the photos in a little bit and pick out the best, to put up on flickr. I’ll let you know if I do! Oh, and I’m adding a dandelions category too… its about time, really.

    Edit: No James, I really don’t want all your ogre babies. Pfft!