Gray weather is only nice in the Pacific Northwest

This crappy weather lately has been making me think of our honeymoon, where the weather was cloudy and rainy but totally par for the course. Our Alaskan cruise was amazing, even when you consider the fact that the boat was completely taken over by the 2008 Patel Family Reunion. (Think 800 Patels...wowza.)

One of the stops on our cruise was Victoria, British Columbia. It may be the most beautiful city on the planet. They obsess over gardening there, so we saw some of the prettiest flowers.

We toured the Butchart Gardens, a huge series of gardens that a woman started around the turn of the 20th century. Her husband ran a cement plant, and the quarrying of limestone near their house outside of Victoria left a massive hole. So, Jennie decided to make the pit into a world-class garden, which would make it pretty and give her friends a reason to come out and visit her in her country setting.

This is the Sunken Gardens, which was created out of the limestone pit. It sinks like 300 feet from where you first walk into the area.
Jennie was inspired and kept working on her gardens, adding a Rose garden and Japanese garden and English garden and all kinds of things (The website has professional photos. Be impressed!) She even hired a famous Japanese landscape architect to come create the Japanese garden, and this was in the 1910s.

Shortly after this picture, a 65-year-old woman got pissy with me because I stopped to take a picture. I may have been on my honeymoon, but I was not afraid to get physical.
At one point, there was this cool little cut-through where you could see the ocean.
At the end of the garden tour, we saw a fireworks show. And although I feel a little unpatriotic saying this because I love America and all, this Canadian fireworks show was the best I've ever seen! It was set to music and all kinds of amazing.

I am not so amazing, and thus took only one picture. Back off, people!

May Day Memories

Once upon a time, I was six. (Sometimes I outdo myself in my writing. I mean, that line? Pure poetry.)

And when I was six, a boy from my neighborhood liked me and wanted to give me flowers. He carefully arranged with my mother to have her let him into our house when I was distracted so he could hang a construction paper bouquet of flowers on my bedroom door knob. I imagine my mother was overcome by how precious this whole thing was. I, on the other hand, discovered the flowers and was immediately both embarrassed and curious.

Mom wouldn't tell me who gave me the flowers, so I had to become a detective. I asked lots of questions and hunted for clues before I finally figured out that it was a boy from the next street over. Case closed. I had no interest in the boy, but the detective work sure was exciting.

Nearly 20 years later on this May Day, I wish I just had some flowers. Husband, you can keep the mystery, just leave the daisies.