Strolling on Sunday

The garden I weeded today was not my own. More about that in a minute.

This is my "I Don't Only Grow Roses" Sunday stroll. I've got a few roses blooming still, and more to come, but today I'll feature other plants.

On this grey, muggy morning I first strolled onto the screened porch where passiflora, my passion flower, is blooming. I've got two pots of them. My mother's favourite flower, and a favourite of mine too (non-rose category).



Another favourite on the porch, the stargazer lily. Oh, the fragrance! I no longer grow these in the gardens because of the dreaded lily beetle.



Outdoors, in the wildflower meadow, black-eyed susans.



The white mallow.



A yarrow cultivar, with hues from deep pink to palest pink to more-white-than-pink.



In one of the gardens at the back of the house, a daylily.



Same garden, pink mallow.



Same garden, yellow coreopsis or tickseed.



On the arching arbor, honeysuckle.



Then I stopped strolling and dressed for church.

It was a large crowd today, brought together in grief. The supply priest was as wonderful as I expected, with a perfect sense of occasion. We were tearful. As well as mourning our sudden and unexpected loss, we had to pull together to prepare for the visitation (at funeral home only a few steps away), the wake, and Tuesday's funeral, with two of our former rectors presiding. The relatives who don't live in New Hampshire are making their way here--from the South, from overseas. The fire department in her home town is in charge of the collation, which will take place after the graveside service.

After church our parishioners pitched in to tidy the Undercroft, where just yesterday the sale tables and baked goods (including those prepared by the dearly departed) were packed with items. (We made a lot of money from our fundraiser, she would've been so pleased!) It helped us all to be busy, for we, too, are her family.

There are more and better kitchen and table set-up people than me, so I took on the outdoor duties, pulling weeds in the hillside garden and tidying along the walkways.

Our tasks reminded us that this is not only a parish loss, but a community loss. Large crowds are expected.

This white hydrangea is like a beacon of welcome.



You'll find more strollers here.

The Chap returns this evening. Happy sigh. The dogs and I haven't seen him in almost a week. They will levitate with joy. I think I'll be able to keep my feet on the ground, but no guarantees.