Two sides of the same wall

Two sides of the same wall. This is inside.

This is outside, just on the left, past that red and white check curtain.

I sometimes think I'm repeating myself here. Yesterday, as I wandered around the yard with the camera in my apron pocket, I thought there is not too much of our home that I haven't photographed for the whole world to see. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing the right thing blogging about our lives here; sometimes I think I tell too much. It's not in my nature to be doubtful and I wonder if this is the conservatism and carefulness of age setting in. I sat knitting yesterday afternoon and thought a lot about this blog. It sometimes feels like such a solitary exercise, but then I remembered that it takes so little to make it seem significant and the right thing to do. All it takes sometimes is the right comment or email, or to visit my favourite blogs to make me feel like I'm part of a community and that all this is as it should be.

My home seems so ordinary to me, it's what I see every day and often it doesn't feel like anything to write about. I wandered around the yard yesterday, clicked photos and looked, really looked, at what is here. I could see that even the empty garden beds and a lizard on bricks hold a special kind of beauty. I wonder though if others see the ordinary in the same way I do and if it's enough to make a blog. There is definitely something to be said about living simply, but is it enough to just live it and not write about it?

The seeds planted two weeks ago are off to a good start. I'll plant some of these in the water garden, some in the soil garden and the pumpkins will go over near the fruit trees.

Things really do look good out in the back yard, even though we have almost empty vegie beds, there is a promise of so much to come. The sun was shining brightly yesterday and that sometimes poses problems for me. When the weather seems so optimistic, I start thinking there is something hidden and maybe it's not as rosy as it looks. I'm much better on dark days. Everything seems possible to me on a dark day. Strange isn't it.

But as I looked around yesterday, the bananas are growing well ...

... the lemons are juicy and there are a lot of them, there are oranges and grapefruit and even blueberries starting to grow ...

... and then I saw Sarah laying this morning's breakfast, so all must be right with the world. Mustn't it?