The "dog days" of summer, at least in my garden, are here. Every August to date, I peter out in my gardening prowess. Basically I tell my plants, "If you can survive 'til fall, more power to you. I'm done!" This summer, I'm afraid the "dog days" actually started much earlier....as in, early June! With a baby-turned-toddler, my poor plants have been in "survival of the fittest" mode for a while now. Where I used to be shuffling plants around all summer, pruning, weeding, and planting anew, I am now happy if I can water my pots between the baby's naps and my now very limited time in the studio.
Somehow, though, it all works out. At least, Baby E thinks so. She loves the garden, such as it is. She wanders around, and when she's not attempting to eat the sticks and mulch, she points to "dis" and "dat" and turns to me expectantly for an explanation of all flora and fauna.
Here she is sitting amongst the flowers in front of my studio earlier this month:
From her perspective, there are no "dog days", there are just days. No judgement, just wonder and enjoyment...and a total disinterest in discriminating the flowers from the weeds. All are equally delicious in her eyes (or, should I say, mouth?) Discrimination serves a worthy purpose for sure, but I can't help but think that I should be so lucky as to see my garden, and for that matter, my paintings (and for THAT matter, my life!) from Baby E's perspective every so often. I have a lot to learn from her.