ramblings from an arkansas farm girl
Happy August to my Sunday Letter readers.
Last week I was moaning about the heat and humidity. This week I can honestly say I don’t ever remember such a cool, wet beginning to August. Don’t get me wrong, I love the cooler weather, but I know our Arkansas farmers need a few more weeks of sunshine and heat to bring in those crops.
I suppose this crazy year will keep on being crazy.Continue Reading
Happy Sunday to all you fabulous Sunday Letter readers,
Is it too soon to start counting down to fall? I swear the heat and humidity has been so bad I can see it creeping onto the back porch in the morning and pressing its hot breath against the window of the back door.
Sometimes, like now, I miss the pool we built at our Dallas house.
Before I continue with this week’s Sunday Letter rambling, I know someone will ask what’s up with the sign above the door in the picture above. So I’ll go ahead and tell you.
The sign says Unity House. Our friend and former East Dallas neighbor, Marcia, gave us that sign when we left Munger Place and moved back to Arkansas. Our Dallas home on Worth Street (which we LOVED and miss!) was built in 1910. Like most of the homes in historic Munger Place, it lived many, many lives before we were honored to call it ours for thirteen years. By the 1970s, the house had been divided into apartments and served as a home for recovering alcoholics. It was known as Unity House. Those interested can read about the redevelopment of Munger Place Historic District, with a reference to the relocation of the residents of Unity House, HERE.
The sign provides a reminder of our time in such a special place in Dallas. And, maybe it’s a reminder to us that we shouldn’t drink too much, especially during this corona-summer.
Several people have asked me for orchid rebloom tips, so here I go. (If you missed my big orchid reveal video, see it HERE.)
The phenomenon of reblooming orchids is relatively new for me. For years, my relationship with an orchid went like this: I would buy an orchid, enjoy it while it bloomed—we treated an orchid almost like a seasonal decoration—and once the flowers dropped off, I assumed that was that. I mean, we don’t buy them for the foliage. Right? I would usually move it to some out of the way place, like the porch, and forget about it until it shriveled. At that point, I didn’t feel quite so guilty about tossing it.
About four years ago, my relationship with orchids became more permanent because of light and ice.
