Dear Sunday Letter friends,
This time of year I spend time looking for the first blooms in our flower beds. Our daffodils are taking their sweet time which is probably a good thing since an arctic blast brought bone-chilling cold on Thursday with icy snow flurries that lasted all day. Those of a certain age will probably remember the Chiffon margarine commercial that ended with the reminder—it’s not nice to fool Mother Nature.
Well, you can’t rush her either.
Like a Boss
You have to admit, Mother Nature does have a wicked sense of humor, the sort that isn’t very funny sometimes. From 70º to 12º lickety split? That’s just rude. Especially when the hellebores are blooming and tulips are just emerging in the front bed.
Yes, winter returned like a boss and sent me back indoors to work on my manuscript edits. I needed to work on my edits because I’d spent a week in master gardener training plus a few more days poking around outside rather than editing. I wonder if Mother Nature and the writing gods are in cahoots?
Red Twig Dogwood
Since I was really, really, really in the mood to garden, I didn’t let the cold weather completely deter me. I was determined to propagate a Red Twig Dogwood cutting from the Headquarters House garden. (Volunteering has many benefits!)
Even though the weather was frigid, I headed to the Farmer’s Co-op and bought rooting powder. Then, I set to work in the garage (because 12º and snow). I don’t claim to be a pro at propagating anything, but I’m hopeful my work will pay off.
Here’s what I did:
- Cut 6-inch twigs at an angle just beneath a bud;
- Removed small branches so that energy will be spent on rooting;
- Dipped cuts into rooting powder;
- Placed twigs into dampened soil.
Creature from the Black Lagoon
Last week, Julie Adams, the raven-haired bathing beauty who starred in Creature from the Black Lagoon, passed away at the age of 92. I love old campy, black-and-white movies, particularly Creature. Something you may not know about this particular movie—it was ahead of its time. The movie was filmed in 3-D. The audience wore viewers similar to those worn today.
Something else you may not know—Julie Adams grew up in Blytheville, Arkansas, a hop, skip, and a jump from my home. (Back then her name was Betty May…) At the age of 15, she moved to Malvern after her father died. She was crowned Miss Little Rock before heading to the bright lights of Hollywood where she enjoyed a long film career.
Although I never met Julie Adams, I believe we are connected simply because we shared a common place. I imagine we ate lunch at the Dixie Pig (maybe even sat at the same table), shopped along Main Street, peered at the Ritz Theater marquee excited to know the week’s happenings. Our paths crossed but during different decades.
RIP Julie Adams.
Attention. Attention. Now Hear This…
This past week (thanks in part to Mother Nature), I completed another round of edits on my manuscript. I have no idea how many edits I’ve done on my next book, but this one is significant because it incorporated recommendations from my professional editor.
This is a massive accomplishment as evidenced above by my overuse of the exclamation point.
Things Momma Says:
While watching the superbowl halftime show…
Momma: “Is that Trump’s buddy, Kanye? I have a hard time pronouncing his name. Kanye. Kan-ye.”
Me: “How often do you find yourself talking about Kanye?”
Thanks for reading, Sunday Letter peeps. Before you go, tell me one thing you are proud or relieved or happy to have accomplished last week.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.