(and thus it continues)

You know I'll miss you
(and thus it begins)
but I release you
(and thus it continues)
Someday we'll be happy again.
--Til Tuesday

2011 has been a hard year around Crooked Cedar Hollow with the loss of two of our beloved pets, Sheila our oldest dog, and Possum, one of our sweet kitties, only three months apart. They were with us in this house since we've been in this house, and it is a sad, hard adjustment to be here where they've always been and will never be again.

The rest of the world -- even the rest of our world -- doesn't stop for our grief, however, and though it can feel unfair sometimes, it is, at least for me, ultimately soothing that the sun still shines, the rain still falls, and the garden still grows.

The bees still find their house and stay busy filling in the holes.

The lettuces, usually done by this time of year, still grow profusely in the cooler summer this year.

The tomatoes are happy in their new box, defying the dreariness. Their make-shift trellis provides a convenient place to hang some herbs to dry.

The grapevine, after a couple years of doing nothing, finally decides this is the year to start growing.

The potatoes encourage the beans.

The cold garden flourishes, while the sunflowers stand watch.

Sister cat provides comic relief in the pepper pot.

Someday we'll be happy again...