Oh, that Mrs Fringe is so immature!
And excited by dumb things. Like the fact that everything is continuing to grow in my little
shop of horrors terrace garden.
The lavender is far from flowering, but if you touch the plants, your fingers smell like lavender. If you put your face to the container overcrowded with chamomile plants/flowers, it smells like chamomile!
Dumb, but a gen-you-ine small thrill to this old city gal.
Random photos for my Fringelings while I’m cooking the week’s doggie gumbo.