We actually had our family holiday celebration yesterday - so today is kinda laid back and easy - run with the dogs early a.m. followed by day of easy living... I like days of easy living, a St. Arnold's ale and a bit of homemade cod soup.
The sunflower is a volunteer - probably from our being able to again share seed with the neighborhood birds since we no longer have backyard cats. There is an upside and a downside to this. We miss the cats. But while we had the cats, we missed the birds. I like cats fine. I also like birds and sometimes likes don't mix so well - sometimes likes require a little care and shepherding.
This flower is a reminder that life and living, relationships and sharing, are all ways always complex and mostly worth the trouble. I like sunflowers.
The rose is a survivor. A surprise and delight that is tougher than nails! Thorny anyway. It is an "almost wild rose" or some such name from a local nursery bought (with companions) a few years ago to live near a sweet olive tree reported to top out at about 12' or so. Well the sweet olive is double that in size and throws an immense shade that roses (including their almost wild kin) don't tolerate well. Roses like their sunshine!
After living in the shade of the olive tree for the last 2-3 years, the rose was mostly three or four sticks with a few leaves and no flowers. It would occasionally struggle to produce a petal or two of pink, but no real flowers. Finally we decided to put a shade-lover, a lover of the darker sides of living, in its place. We briefly considered tossing the bedraggled rose on the compost. But no, we decided, even in this hottest June on record (or at least since 1906) for Houston, we decided to try a new home for the rose. We transplanted the rose to another sunnier corner of the garden and watered it (I keep wanting to call the rose a her but I'm going to keep calling the rose an "it"). I was pretty sure that it would die in this heat, but how little credit we sometimes give to the urge for life - the urge to express oneself. So! one short month later, we have this terrific "almost wild" rose smiling into the early morning sunlight. I like roses.