The Violet Fern

A Colorful Tale of a Garden in the Making



No, I have not disappeared off the face of the earth, although there are some who believe I am from another planet. It’s just that we have officially entered “Mayhem.” I have actually been in mayhem mode since April, however. It was a mad, mad dash to leave “paradise” literally mopping the floors on our way out the door so that hopefully, vacationing folks, would enter and stay in a clean and comfortable place. It was no small feat to purchase a house and have it turn key ready in three months. Most of the walls were freshly painted, walls came down, bamboo flooring went in, furniture was shuffled out of one place into storage and then finally shuffled into our place. Artwork was sorted, selected, framed, hung. Some landscaping was attempted, irrigation systems installed. I am flattered when I run into someone here up North and they say I look well rested. I have to chuckle.


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I’m in Love

I’m in love with sunshine, bird song, Spring, my husband, my little cabana (Cedar Kottage), paints, shells, sand, soil, plants, flowers, the air, Cedar Key and more … so much more!

I can’t believe it is mid-February already, and remember not so long ago when I felt encapsulated in time in a dark, dusty house (that seems so expansively large to me now), pinging from window to window like some lost particle in space pondering how anything could endure such a dreadful, void season. I never dreamed (or even wanted just a little bit) of a Florida migration. I never dreamed I would love Florida. But who wouldn’t love the meaning of the word, “flowery Easter?” Things change.


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Making Way for the New Year

I feel like I’ve been absent. I suppose I have been distracted by all the happenings and buildings of things I hope to accomplish in the New Year … but here I am now.

Something I have been contemplating for awhile, I finally ended so I can make more room for things that matter to me. I have deactivated my Facebook account! I am tired of living through social media, stating my whereabouts, and what I’m cooking or eating for dinner and who with, and regurgitating quotes about how to live a meaningful life, or heaven forbid, ascertaining political views.

I want to live through my art and garden in the here and now, in real life and time. I want to be a participant in my own life not a narrator. I no longer view my life through a screened device.

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