I know, I know...why even start a blog if I can't manage to write in the damn thing? While that is a compelling point...I do have shit to say about this life-consuming undertaking and it seems I've finally found a few minutes during which to let my thoughts flow. While I'm not sure where the tradition originated or why, I just know that it exists- all truly great (which here means cultivated with great care and enthusiasm) gardens have names, like ranches, yachts, or rifles. As is the case with conjuring titles or naming anything, it is my belief that one should never force a name upon anything, no matter how small. All truly fitting names come naturally, usually as they are earned in some fashion. My puppies remain nameless until the instant the proverbial light bulb goes off and it comes blurting out of my mouth. From that point forth, "It" is permanent and might as well be made of solid gold that sticks like solid glue....That moment came this morning for...