My grandmother had a huge jasmine vine, or plant, or whatever you call it, in her yard. It didn’t have anything to grow on, so it just spilled over onto itself in mounds of perfumed goodness. I loved the smell, so I decided a year or so ago to plant one in my backyard. It lived, which is amazing in itself where I am concerned. There were a few touch and go moments where I wasn’t sure that it would make it, but it did. This is the first time it has ever bloomed. I figured I better document this historic event. I can’t promise I won’t kill it before next time. If only it would stay this pretty and sweet smelling all summer. I can’t show you the other angle I took a picture of, because there is a huge pot with a big dead plant in it. Let’s just keep this post about celebrating the one that I didn’t murder.
