The Lightly Frosted Garden in January

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Tree textures: curly willow (Salix) and Doug fir (Pseudotsuga).
It is not a bad thing—at least in my mind—to wake up to a frozen world outside.
Just a few of my many houseplants in my office/plant room.
With the cold comes sunshine and I can embrace them both so long as the heater is working.
Pieris japonica ‘Valley Valentine’.
With a warm coat and several layers of clothing you’re likely to find me outside now looking around.
Spiderweb frozen in time on a Camellia sasanqua ‘Yuletide’.
Ok, maybe this is a gentle time during the winter for us and I have to admit that I’m more inclined to giggle at the things I’m seeing rather than groaning about the wet muddiness of it all. (That is if I am not cursing the cold. I’m not perfect.)
Clematis cirrhosa ‘Freckles’.
Seeing the blue sky all day warms my heart. I adore the color blue and all that it represents.
Even the ivy that’s considered an invasive plant seems somewhat more tame and delicate with a dusting of the cold frozen dampness.
An Epiphyllum I grew from seed.

Indoors the houseplants are still growing. I sit beside them working while I too bask in the warmth from the heater and I take advantage of the lights intended for their growth.

Some old homes don’t have a lot of windows to let the light in, but I make do.

Winter Reds, not Blues

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Our Yuletide Camellia is in bloom just outside our front door right now and I am stuggling to find the energy I need in order to do the same thing. Sometimes I wish that my own bloom could just pop up one day, on queue, with no fuss and maybe a little boost of fertilizer. For years now it seems that new medical problems have appeared almost daily. Each one bringing with it problems I never seem to be prepared for, but this winter, things aren’t too bad. I simply wish that I had the ability to stay stable enough now for a schedule that might be consistant and steady. Life becomes very difficult when you are living with chronic illness and all you dream of is a little bit of time away from yourself and the pain. It is hard to imagine what you put others through, but in my case, I couldn’t be luckier. My husband is wonderful and we both seek out solace in the soil. Maybe next Christmas I too will bloom and beat the camellia to its punchline. Then again, maybe it will happen sooner.