Select Page


I first encountered a crepe myrtle tree in the spring of 2004 in Maryland.

It was in full bloom and I could only stare and stare and stare some more.

A vibrant shocking pink. Not the Metamucil kind. Or even Candy Floss.

Oh no. This was an “in your face look at me” kind of pink.

I simply had to have me some of that.

And a’Googlin’ I went to discover a smorgasbord of colors.

I wanted Royal Purple.


I settled for two full grown trees in that “look at me” pink.

And paid a pretty penny.


Money spent on books and plants cannot be evaluated.

I nursed those trees the first year. And then we had an infestation of Japanese beetles.

These little monsters weren’t content on getting high on my prize roses. Oh no, they got into my crepe myrtles as well.

Well, hell hath no fury like a woman whose prize roses and “in your face” pink crepe myrtle trees are under attack!

I’d be out there every morning with my little container of soapy water. Picking off their scabby little butts and gleefully drowning them.

Humane? I truly didn’t care. I figured it was better for the environment not to use pesticides or sex traps. Yup, there are such things for Japanese beetles!

Fall arrived. The flowers came and went.

Winter swung by. Cold, windy, icy, snow. The whole menu.

My crepe myrtles stood brown and bare against a clear blue winter sky.

Spring came around. I was out there, hacking away at those seemingly dead branches.

“Uh-huh,” said a neighbor who has lived with crepe myrtles all her life. “You do know crepe myrtles flower on old wood?”

No, I didn’t know. And she was a day too late.

Needless to say, I did not have beautiful gorgeous flowering trees in summer that year.

Fast forward to 2018 and Florida.

There are two seriously old, small, stumped and decrepit looking crepe myrtle trees in my back yard. Badly in need of TLC.  One right in front of me as I look out from the comfort of my Morning Happy Chair.

This year I was in time. To warn the gardener not to touch those crepe myrtles.

And have watched day by day as new growth emerged.

It started at the bottom.

For a while I was worried. That the top branches would remain bare.

But as the bottom filled in, slowly, ever so slowly, tiny leaves sprouted on those old spindly stalks.

Tiny geckos play peekaboo and do death-defying stunts when the tip of a branch buckles under their weight.

My little yellow-breasted bird has been back to visit.

And I’m thinking.

Yesterday was Easter Sunday.


It doesn’t matter how old and ugly and dead our life and lifestyle appear. Take a lesson from those crepe myrtles. New life flowers on old and dead and ugly wood.

What Christ does in Nature, He can do in you.

Cyber Hugs and Blessings All. I wish it was possible to go around the world and hug you all one by one.


Get in Contact with Ida