It has come to my attention that we have a dangerous predator lurking in our yard. A stealth animal with razor sharp claws and the teeth of a great white, a female that stalks it’s prey with the precision of a tiger, her name is Ruby. My adorable sweet little kitten, who we rescued from the life of dumpster diving in a murky Fan alleyway nine years ago, has turned into a hunter.

A while back when a fellow gardener asked me the significance of Latin names of plants, I found myself fumbling for an answer despite the fact that botany was my major in graduate school; evidently, associating plants with Latin names has become somewhat of a second nature for me.

It’s hard to believe that Easter is right around the corner, the weather can’t seem to make up it’s mind cold and dreary or warm and sunny (we all know which I prefer). I love Easter; it’s my favorite time of the year, the warm sunny days, blooming flowers and the wonderful message of Hope. Between church services and Easter egg hunts we are on the move during the season.

The winter doldrums, I hate them. I suffer from them every winter and I long for spring. I anxiously wait for the mild mornings when I can open my windows, letting the sweet smell of spring infiltrate my home. Mr. Robin singing his sweet song and the tulips blooming in my flowerbeds. Oh how I yearn for spring.