April Flowers and June

Aren't they pretty?

Today marks the beginning of the "War of Flowers" between myself and my new neighbor, June.

Two weeks ago, I arrived in Santa Barbara to find the most glorious pot of hydrangeas on my front porch, along with a sweet note welcoming me to the neighborhood, urging me to come by to have some tea and a conversation.  I, of course, couldn't say no to such a kind gesture.  I promptly scrapped together a little coffee mug of flowers to return the favor, and marched my little butt over to get me some tea and crumpets.

The view from her backyard.

June is lovely.  She's been living in the same house for the past 42 years, having moved here with her husband of about 65 years.  She asserts that the view alone convinced her to stay.  Right.  That ol' thing?...

As we sipped what she says is England's #1 tea of choice (I trusted her, I don't drink tea myself, but I liked the romantic idea of it all), she took me on a winding road of her life.  She was a renowned ballet dancer in London before WWII struck, which then lead her to tour the armed forces with her song and dance.  Yep, she was one of those cute pin-up girls you see in posters in old movies.  How marvelous.

Her Work

Her husband was an American soldier and, unbeknownst to her, a total lush who took a bet from a friend upon seeing her at a pub to marry her.  They wed.  She learned what he did.  They divorced.  She loved him anyway.  They wed.  She remembered why she divorced him.  They divorced.  She wasn't getting any younger and couldn't bring herself to love anyone else, so they wed again.  Three marriages and one daughter was what that little drunken bet in a neighborhood pub created. :)  Life is so hilarious sometimes.



She shared with me her art, and I shared with her mine (her's was ridiculously more impressive).  I couldn't believe she painted each detail in her work with just watercolor.  You just can't mess up with watercolor or you have to start the whole thing over again - I'm always so impressed by people who embrace it.

June

June's Mother

Before I left, she shoved a thick bunch of freshly cut honeysuckle into my fist, gave me a big box of that #1 English tea, and sent me on my merry way.


More flowers.  She gave me more flowers.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is war.