I know I've told you about my grandmother traumatizing me in my thirties by springing from the bathroom, soaking wet and singing, "I'm naked!" Right?
The horror.
So every summer, around August, you can here me crooning, "I'm NAKED!" as I stroll through the naked ladies. I've told you we live next to a church. Right?
There are great stands of them congregating about the yard. But I admire the way this one has cloaked herself in a blanket of daisies. So modest. See how she blushes?
Yes, she's complementing the tomatoes. Much like this fellow:
The gardens are a daily surprise.
