This morning I sat down in my back yard . . .

on the heels of a spectacular thunderstorm and I prayed to the patron saint of flowers, Thérèse de Lisieux.

I need it. I'm having an insatiable urge to grow them.

Of course, I Googled to see if there was such a saint and was excited to see her image pop up. She looks like she can bless me, doesn't she? I think we already have a connection.:)

I've never, ever grown flowers despite pressure from 6 generations of Cooper-Culpepper-Fontenot women who have successfully been growing African Violets forEVER. But I'm not an African Violet kind of girl. Indoors, monitoring temps. Nope. Not for me.

I must have the wild and free variety. Outside. I wish for my Aunt Marcia, who was the wildflower queen of Texas at one time, monitoring a Texas Wildflower hotline from her home in McKinney. Sadly she died this year before this 'urge' of mine.

My backyard is now resembles a blank canvas. I killed all of the grass and weeds -- and pulled up my sad little remnants of a vegetable garden. I have access to a tiller. Now I need a plan.

I have been ending recent e-mail communication with "I have to go tend to my flowers" just practicing. And giggling at the foreign phrase -- knowing that someday soon it will feel pretty natural.

After all, sweet St.Lisieux likes me. I just know it.