I Love Pretty Yards

My grandmother’s yard was a fantasy land to me when I was little girl.  My sister and I played there for hours and hours while Nana went about her happy task of fighting off dandelions and tending the flowers.

We baked the greatest variety of mud pies on the back patio.  We bravely jumped from island to island in the rock garden, squealing with terror if we didn’t quite make it.  There were fierce, imaginary alligators lurking everywhere.  We ate strawberries from the shady beds, and we did it all with the soft scent of roses ever present.

Many family meals were eaten in that backyard… lots of homemade ice cream under the shade trees.

Forty years have taken a toll on that peaceful place.  You’d never know how beautiful it once was if you drove by today.  The house changes hands occasionally.  I always hope for a renaissance.

It’s hard work to maintain a beautiful yard.  Even xeriscaping calls for constant weeding and pruning.  So many of you do it so well.  By the sweat of your own brow, or through the generosity of your checkbook, you give us lovely venues as we go about our days. For this, I thank you.  And I’ll keep after my own weeds while I pray for rain.


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5 Responses to “I Love Pretty Yards”

  1. Kim Mann says:

    Her yard was the best!!! A great picture – Tammy, the wonder dog, too!!!

  2. Absolutely, Sandy! Cool shades and muddy toes balance perfectly with lemonade on the porch!

  3. Sandy says:

    I wish my days could be that simple sometimes… when baking a mud pie was the task of the morning.

    Yes, Kim.. isn’t it a wonderful photo. One of the slides I had printed. Nana’s yard was almost unbelievable now that I look back on it. A sweet oasis!

  4. Kim Mann says:

    She loved working in it. I like to remember that trumpet vine that covered the whole wall of the garage. I think it was also mixed with honeysuckle.

  5. Sandy says:

    I remember how that yard had so many different areas – each with their own personality. Behind the garage, off the back porch, the rock garden, around on the north side where we rarely ventured, that incredible rambling rose in the front…

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