I think we've got some ying and yang going, Ink, optimism/pessimism. Of course, nobody cut down the trees across from me... I wrote this 8/28 and called it "Hanging on to Summer". Summer is probably the favorite time of year for most tropical gardeners. After all, it's the time the garden looks its best. Day to day growth is noticeable: palm spears kick up and open, bromeliads pup profusely, gingers bloom, bananas fruit, aromatic flowers perfume the air. The early morning warmth foretelling a bright and sunny day, and the lingering heat of the evening are cherished by the tropical gardener. But there is more to the love-affair with summer than peak season in the garden. The small pleasures and rituals of summer contribute to a feeling of well-being. Weekend mornings enjoying coffee and a newspaper while lounging outdoors barefoot, perhaps a light breeze ruffling the 'Travel' section as we peruse life's possibilities. The casual, abbreviated clothes outside the office: never more than flip flops on the feet, some baggy shorts or a loose skirt, arms freed from sleeves, a cocky hat to shade the sun. Summer calls for frivolous violet toenails, a light tan warms the skin, a few streaks of gold appear in the hair, I can taste salt on my lips. The abundance of seasonal fruits offers strawberries with breakfast, blueberries and canteloupe with lunch, and watermelon with dinner. The neighbors give us bags of avocados from their trees and tomatoes from their vines. The long reach of the sun allows for an early morning surf in the ocean before the crowds arrive and early evening hikes in the hills to enjoy a bit of shade and a light breeze on the trail. In summer I feel my healthiest, my strongest. It makes me feel optimistic about things that might be worrisome in winter. My mind is uncluttered and decisions are clear. The evidence is here, though; August is on the wane. The heat of day is dissipating earlier, the sunset comes too soon. The late day shadows are longer, and the color of the light is changing. While the shining wet expanse of sand on the beach is still flat and broad from the languid waves of summer, scattered with shell bits and pebbles, there is a hint of freshness in the water, an unexpected coolness on the feet. I feel an urge to grasp at every last bit of summer, squeeze out every drop. The weekend plans are piling up fast, jumbled on the calendar, can we fit it all in before October slams the door on summer? I feel a twinge of resentment about having to work five days a week during the finest time of the year. But even the youngsters who have played in the ocean all summer must resign themselves to returning to classrooms and regimented schedules. Maybe we enjoy summer so much because we cannot have it all the time. There are other things to look forward to in the coming seasons. The vanda has a bloom spike with buds expanding daily, and the laelia has sent out a tall wand, promising purple flowers in October. Maybe the fall will remain warm, maybe the winter will be mild, maybe the palms will grow through the winter, maybe the rains will be plentiful. A hummingbird swoops toward me and pauses in flight to investigate my hair, my face. He approaches, then backs off a bit, glancing up and down, purple throat flashing, wings singing, then speeds away to search for something new. I will take a sip of wine and watch the wisps of clouds turn pink.

Here in Southern California a garden can be year round "alive" and I am trying to make the most of this mild climate. Right now my camellias started blooming and the cymbidium orchids are almost ready to open their flowers. Less spectacular but also flowering right now are my alstromerias, and the bacopas open tons of her cute little white flowers. I just finished pruning my roses so there are no flowers on the roses grown in the ground in the moment, but I was very surprised that some of my one year old bands grown in 5 gallon containers and some of my newest bands growing in 1 gallon pots tried or are trying to flower already: Memorial Day, Mr. Lincoln, Sister Elizabeth, Heritage, Mme. Ernest Calvat and Iceberg had already flowers or have buds, that will open soon. I assume that the soil is much warmer in the pots than the regular ground soil and that enables the roses in pots to flower so early. Of course that is only a teaser for the spring flush, can't wait! Christina

sunshine, email me if you want addresses; hopefully I've saved them. MUDMOM!! Where in the world are you? Queen to be Veeja, thanks for posting your wishes. Cassie I owe you five Poochella tickets! That's what sat out on the counter once your box was packed. They aren't as good as winning Lottery tickets, but nearly a sure bet for 5 plants or 5 dahlia tubers next Spring. Dahlias do very well in pots. The way the deer are munching for the real first time ever, I don't know if I'm going to have a perennial left to my name! We'll talk about it all next Spring.

I like the combination with the flooring; in fact, not a fan of gray but that appeals to me. The accent colors that you could use are so many with this, have any in mind yet? I also like the Silver Mist paint color; the Balboa has a slight green tint but that could just be my monitor! Some of the experts on this forum can give you great advice on this and you will likely get their opinions shortly.