This vine has been growing here a long time and I thought it was such a pretty leaf that I would sometimes leave it to grow when pulling weeds.  I just thought it was an insignificant weed that just happened to start growing in our yard although when it did bloom its pretty tiny blue flowers I would take special notice that it was blooming. 

















     It grows through the lawn and in the garden and under the ramp.  The leaves are a nice green with the scalloped edge.



 "If you will live and not die, toil. Are you ashamed of labor? Then I am ashamed of you, and so is God ashamed of you. Next to a sinner who is accursed, the Almighty abhors a drone. His benignities, like special favors, like sunlight through a cloudy sky, gather about the head of the worker. Do not be afraid of work. It is honorable, it is refreshing, it is ennobling, enlivening, redemptive. If you are a thinker, work; if heirship to great possessions is yours, work. No matter what pursuit you follow, work; work daily, habitually, persistently, in the open air. Dig dirt. It is a better alternative than any living man carries in his saddle-bag, it regulates the stomach, rouses up the liver, equalizes the circulation, strengthens the muscles, invigorates the mind, calms the passions, purifies the soul, and adjures and exorcises the fiends who haunt men, better than all the medicines invented. It is life, soul, heart, mind, might, and strength to a man, especially if followed by recreation. I do not mean by it playing the fiddle, that is fun; nor selling cloth and measuring tape from behind a counter for ladies, that is employment; nor studying law, that is instruction; nor studying to be a doctor, that might be folly; but I do mean by it that which makes the sweat flow, which makes the muscle like iron, which compels one to fight against the sun till he is tanned nut-brown like a gypsy. 

"The human being does not live who is not bound by his constitutional laws, obedience to which wraps up his very life, to work the soil he treads till the smell of the earth comes up into his nostrils, more grateful by far than frankincense and myrrh. God is great, and tombstones are his witnesses. God is just, and model men, beautiful women, rosy-cheeked children, are his testimonies. 

"But working the earth, digging in the ground, is not only necessary to bodily vigor and robust health, it is equally needful to brain - if body and brain may be contra-distinguished. Brain-sweat is the most exhausting sweat; tires out nature quicker, kills sooner than any sudoriferous flow. What steady marchings there are from the ranks of thinkers to the grave! The sound of the bell - tomb! tomb! tomb! is heard at midnight, noon, and at dawn of the day. Not because they think, for the brain is made for thought; but because

they do naught else but think, except in a wrong way. If they knew enough to offset thought by thoughtlessness, care by carelessness, the responsibilities of a man by the ease of the child; if life were industry diversified to them by play instead of hard monotony and dull routine, the benefits would be incalculable."


1865 JW, HHTL 392