I really do adore having a 100yr old house that creaks and groans. I’ve been out all day and just now the sun-warmed house is cooling down and popping and snapping its old bones and I have to tell it it’s loved just the perfectly imperfect way it is.
stole gathered some hellebores from my mother’s garden and put them in a vase with some other little garden snippets and the evening sun lit them up so beautifully that I spent a happy few minutes photographing them. (I would have taken more time but I lost the light.)
Then I put my cheery little arrangement in the living room and the house creaked its appreciation rather loudly.
I’m looking at some of the photos and loosing myself in the beauty of the blossoms. These hellebores absolutely have to be painted immediately…well, maybe tomorrow. It’s evening and Morgan has missed me. She’s terrifically determined to replace the lap top on my lap. I’m stroking her soft fur and wondering how I might be able to spend the rest of my life happily photographing and drawing flowers.