Can You Hear Me Now?

Okay, here (hear) they are :-)

I've had these little babies for three days now and can't believe the difference in my ability to pick up the tiniest sound. It's nearly as remarkable as when I got my first pair of glasses and realized that normal people could see that trees had individual leaves.

As a child, I had frequent and extremely painful ear infections that my parents treated with warm olive oil dripped into the ear canal and held there with cotton, and by blowing cigarette smoke into the ear canal (go figure). If that didn't work, a shot of penicillin would. Magic! One winter there was an abscess near the eardrum that a doctor had to lance to allow it to drain. Even giving birth cannot compare to that pain. A mass of scar tissue is still there on the eardrum; I saw it on the screening monitor.

Back in my National Gypsum days, all employees took mandatory hearing tests on a regular basis. I saw then that my hearing was gradually deteriorating; nothing spectacular, but enough to get my attention. A couple years ago, a come-on for a free hearing exam appeared in the mail. Those nice folks tried to convince me that I was in desperate need of hearing aids and it would cost me only $9000. Huh. Nobody's that desperate.

Then, a couple weeks ago, another come-on appeared. Having found myself saying, "What?" and "Sorry?" and "Can you repeat that, please?" much too often, I thought maybe it was time. Mike was being very patient with my sitting close to and turning up the TV, not to mention having to say everything twice or even three times. If you've ever noticed, when a person's hearing is going, they smile and nod a lot, and look hard at your lips, and cock their heads to put their best ear forward. They're nearly uncommunicative in a crowd because they can't distinguish one sound from another. Well, that was me. I knew it, and apparently had been hiding it pretty well because even family and friends didn't know and were surprised that I got hearing aids.

No, they didn't cost $9000, but they are "top-of-the line" technologically, and as you can see from the picture, pretty much invisible. The biggest part goes behind the ear, with a tiny tube running around the top of the ear and directly into the ear canal where the aid itself is completely hidden. A short "tail" curls into the ear, also unseen unless you look hard. I visit the technician every week for a month for any needed adjustments. There are free visits, consultations, adjustments and upgrades for the life of the instrument, plus a two-year warranty.

Already, I'm a believer because I'm hearing sounds I had forgotten existed. Life continues to be a wonder!

Books, Books, Books

I think I’ve figured out why I read so much … well, actually, why I read so much fiction. Not that I don’t enjoy an occasional historical novel, or a biography, or even a “how-to” self-help book… but for the most part, my choice is fiction. Not just any fiction, though; for instance, the “bodice-rippers” that some women enjoy seem light and fanciful and silly to me. Neither do I prefer science fiction, though I’ve read a lot of it in my time. Mysteries are fun; nothing like a good “whodunit”. I enjoyed all of Harry Potter (not purely a children’s series), and most of Stephen King (shudder). In fact, I’ve found that once I discover an author who “speaks to me”, I will make every effort to read more books by that same author. What a joy to find a really fine writer, a master of words, a magician with description and dialogue, a lover of nuance and suggestion, someone who moves the reader into the story with ease!

Some people say that reading fiction is pure escapism; others say it’s to live a fantasy. I’ve come to realize that it is far more than that. A good story has a beginning, a middle and an end. The characters appear, interact, develop and change, and find their place in the plot. The story takes on a life of its own, and becomes part of the reader’s experience/knowledge base/consciousness. Whether or not the author intends any effects, a good novel affects the reader. Sometimes it provides a means of relaxation or of reward, and yes, a way of getting away from “real life”. How and why that happens is the interesting part.

In a good novel the reader is presented with a setting and a situation, and from there on it becomes more or less complicated and more or less convoluted, but it always has a resolution. Actually, I find it rather comforting to realize that we readers are not responsible in any way for how things turn out. We can laugh or cry, and run through the entire gamut of emotions, but a novel, a piece of fiction, is, after all, make believe.

On the other hand, there is real life. It has a beginning, but we don’t know when we are at the middle, and who knows when or how the end will come? Life gets complicated, and more often than not there is no resolution… we just advance blindly into the next maelstrom. Our thoughts and actions and emotions are very, very real, and we are definitely responsible for how things turn out. The pressure is on, and it never lets up… we can’t close the book until we have time to look and see what happens.

Can there be any wonder why so many avid readers escape into fiction?

Who Likes Golf?

Lots of golf in my life this last week. 18 holes on Thursday and another 18 yesterday. Thursday I played 9 holes with J.D. Faris in Senior League (he was subbing for Wilma) followed by 9 holes with Lucas (playing our Community League round). Friday I played 9 holes with Colleen, just for fun and to warm up for a second 9 holes, during which she was subbing for Shirley Jeffers, another one of my Community League partners. You would think I actually liked the game!

Mostly I enjoy being outdoors (and not working), and being with good friends and/or family. That’s a good thing because I certainly do not enjoy the scores I end up with (the scores with which I end up?... no… the scores up with which I end?). “Dangling participles”: I wish I had never heard of them. English is terrible with all its rules and contradictions, and I am constantly reminded how glad I am that I don’t have to learn it as a second language!!

We took over the management of the golf course in January of 1998 and I spent most of the next several summers working in a flimsy, crowded 10’ x 12’ structure that does a poor job of pretending to be a clubhouse. I started playing golf sometime during the summer of 2000 after having realized that I could certainly not do any worse than some of the people I had been watching through the windows. (Little did I know.) Another reason I attempted learning the game was to become more comfortable with the language, and to be able to share stories with other golfers. I did successfully achieve some of those goals, but I still feel awkward and out of synch when I try to play the game. Maybe learning a new sport at age 60 is not such a good idea. Any improvement is offset by getting even older.


On the other hand, never in my life was I an athlete, only an occasionally interested observer of a few select sports, and then only in small doses… so there you go.
One especially fun thing about golf is that there are so many excuses why one isn’t doing well that day… and I have used most of them :-)

Flowers... Indoors?!

Flowers are so lovely growing outside, whether in the wild or as we humans think looks best. Though I love having flower arrangements inside, my preference is to enjoy them in nature. The seed for these cosmos and zinnias were given to me by a golfing friend. Merrily tossing them onto barely disturbed ground early this spring, I had no idea they would turn out to be quite this glorious. Not knowing whether or not he checks my blog, this picture is my tribute to him and to all those who share their love of nature. Little did I know this little plot of ground in front of my house, which has been in the past totally unsuccessful in demonstrating any fertility whatsoever, would provide such beauty.
Thanks, Ray!

The Beauty of July

We're into the most vigorous growing season of the year, and the plentiful Spring rains followed by long, hot days helped all the plants, shrubs, flowers and trees around here to thrive. Some of my shrubs got carried away, showing growth well beyond what we usually see in early July, so I was busy outside today with our electric hedge trimmer. We've had some really hot days, but the humidity has been bearable. This makes Summer a much more pleasant season for me. (Shh-h-h, don't let Mother Nature hear; she will slam down the humidity!) The rose bushes enjoyed an early, spectacular blooming phase, and then put all their energy into growing up and out, with no new rosebuds showing. So they got whacked way back, too. It is now possible to approach our front door from the driveway, along the walkway and onto the porch without picking your way or getting swallowed up by greenery.


My garden is creeping along. I've decided to adopt Ruth Stout's method of mulching, using hay that is simply pushed aside for planting in the Spring, and added to as needed to keep the weeds down. Hay allows rainfall through and holds the moisture in the soil. It also gradually decomposes and becomes part of the soil, enriching it over time as well as or better than any of the purchased mulches. I've harvested my first lettuce and radishes, and there are green tomatoes and small peppers ripening. The first cucumber showed up a couple days ago. I've had to replant several things because of the rascally rabbits, but once I get the hay fully distributed I don't think it will be so pleasant for them to approach the garden rows. One can always hope.


The zinnias and marigolds and cosmos are hard at it, making the place more beautiful. Right now, though, the lilies get the prize for magnificence. They are in competition with the glory of the skies overhead.

"Gibbous" Moon

No matter how old we get, there is always wa-a-ay more out there to learn. Thank heavens for Google, right? Recently I came across the term "gibbous moon", and recalled having read it in a poem (perhaps "Jabberwocky"?). I found that, once again, I absolutely had to know what it meant. Goggle has many, many references that explain the term in many, many ever-so-slightly different ways, but this is the best because there are pictures!

For those of you who are leery about accessing sites you aren't sure about, here is the explanation in a nutshell: A waning gibbous moon is a bit more than half illuminated on the left side. A waxing gibbous moon is a bit more than half illuminated on the right side. So, to be "gibbous", the moon phase has to be approximately halfway between a full moon and a new moon. Got it? To really complicate things, a gibbous moon is close to the horizon, so not all that easy to see. Fun, huh?

Cat Sitting

I lived at daughter Miki's house in Bloomington this last week, cat-sitting while she and Kevin went on a trip. Much of the inside of the house enjoyed a recent renovation, and it is lovely. While there I read and watched movies and slept a lot, went for walks and sat outside in the sunshine with nothing to do but just "be". There were no shoulds and oughts (other than feeding the cats) so I just let my mind and body float through the days.




The cats, Maurice and Kahlo, were very entertaining. Their personalities are quite different, and I found it amazing that they were able to communicate so well, non-verbally, with one another and with me. Part of the charm of my stay was that those cats generated a lot of laughter, and there's much balm for the soul in laughter. Of course, I couldn't resist generating a little stress by working on an impossible puzzle that I had spread all over their dining table.


Home now and all caught up with the bookkeeping and laundry and emails and phone calls. I find that I am completely relaxed and contented... well, almost comatose, after a week of quiet ease. Of course, it is always nice to be back in one's own home, but I hope Miki asks me again when she needs a cat-sitter.

Precious Grandgirls

If you thought the picture of our daughters was lovely, have a look at these grandgirls!
Could they be any cuter?

Thoughts on Fathers' Day

My own father died nearly 55 years ago, so it’s no longer a big deal that he’s not around; he would be closing in on 100 years old by now, so most likely gone anyway. I have to admit, though, that I do allow myself to feel a little bit sorry for myself on Fathers’ Day. He was a good and loving dad, funny and gentle and generous with his three daughters. I like to assume that he would have continued to be a positive influence on my life and that we would have grown to have a close relationship as I grew older. Why not imagine the best that could be? Who really knows?

I was only thirteen when he was suddenly just… not there. He died in a horrible one-car accident. At age thirteen, I think I must have been in love with my dad. (Perhaps at age fourteen I would have found fault in everything he said and did, but we never had to suffer through that.) I lived for the times when he was at home. He was a traveling salesman, gone for a couple of days or a couple of weeks at a time, depending on the customers on his regular route, and our lives were built on “when Daddy was coming home”.

Needless to say, there was a huge, empty hole in my life when he died (as there was in my mother’s and sisters’ lives). Home never meant the same after he was gone, and though my mother tried valiantly, her own grief overshadowed her ability to give me what I needed. I finished high school and went many miles away to college before I began to discover who I might be without a father.

One of the reasons I have the husband that I do is that I felt he would be a good father. Observing him with his nieces and nephews, I realized that they liked him and laughed a lot, a big selling point. He had an impossibly high standard to live up to, because in my mind it was as though my own father had achieved sainthood, but I think he did a pretty good job of being a father to our four offspring.

Now our kids are grown, and one of them has fathered children of his own. As far as I can tell, and recognizing a certain bias, I would say he is a wonderful father. I recognize, however, that it’s horribly unfair to give any man a grade on how well he rates as a father. Even his own children have impossible expectations, and that goes both ways… some fathers have impossible expectations of their children as well. So it’s a good thing we have Fathers’ Day when they can be treated in special ways… given gifts and hugs and thanks… receive cards and emails and phone calls.

Personally, I think it should be called Dads’ Day, though, because it’s easy to father a child but much harder to be a good dad.

Daughters!

Just in case you missed it on Mike's blog, here is the best picture from the time spent in South Bend June 7th and 8th. Danielle and Miki, the amazing and wonderful daughters of Mike and Diane. Wasn't it just yesterday when they were small?

If you want to see more great pictures of the Bird family, go here and type "portraits from South Bend" in the search box at the top left of the page.

R.I.P.

Mike’s dad passed away in his sleep Thursday night after a long and painful struggle with colon cancer. He had been ill and failing for a number of years, experiencing a gradual decline in his health. The promise of release from suffering makes death more welcome, but still his family is saddened by the loss of his presence. He was a highly intelligent and talented teacher, writer and editor, with an interest in a multitude of subjects and the ability to pass on that enthusiasm. His mind remained sharp and clear to the end, for which I am certain he was grateful, as were the members of his family. Though he outlived many of his friends, those he had were strong and loyal.

He had eight children, none of whom thought of him as a particularly good father, but rather spoke of the tremendous impact and influence he had on their lives. While he sometimes was belittling, confusing, demanding and maddening, at the same time he expected and encouraged his children to use their minds and their curiosity and their intelligence to explore and research the many facets of their world.

I saw him as a man with a brilliant mind, but also the common inability of geniuses to exhibit common sense or to cope with practicalities. His expectations for people were beyond what most could ever provide for him, so I suppose he was both disappointed and despairing of making ordinary connections with people.

While at home, he spent most of his hours in his library, reading, studying and writing. His self-imposed loneliness included drinking, and at times he became a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality. Unfortunately, that behavior alienated me and some others like me. Still, there’s no denying that he was an interesting person, whom one would very much like to get to know. Some did, and because their forgiveness knew no bounds, these are the ones who will miss him the most. … and so it goes.

Groundcovers

We were in Bloomington on Sunday, and after brunching with Miki and Kevin, we toured their back yard. It's a shadowy hideaway with walkways and ponds and quiet, secret corners where one can rest and ponder and dream. Someone who owned the house in the past was gifted with imagination and created this lovely sanctuary. Their front yard is a study in contrasts, as it is brightly sunny and steeply sloping downward toward the sidewalk and the road. Miki spoke of wanting to replace the grass, which poses a danger to anyone mowing it, with a groundcover, perennials, or perhaps even making a series of terraces, as their neighbors have done. She requested information about groundcovers; thus, this series of pictures.


This first picture was meant as a caution rather than a suggestion. English Ivy is the chosen groundcover for many people, but I find it obnoxiously invasive and extremely difficult to eradicate.


This low growing plant appears to be, and acts like, a groundcover, though it spreads very slowly. I've entitled this picture "Mystery (weed?)" and encourage its growth simply because I find it to be a pretty addition to my front yard.


This may be creeping thyme... or some variety of thyme... The leaves are thyme-like and when crushed their scent approximates the smell of thyme.


This is a shade and moisture-loving groundcover called Ribbon Grass (or Dwarf Garters, which I find amusing). It's easy to take cuttings from existing stands, and it's hardy and slow to spread. I like the contrast of light and darker greens.


I found no explanation in my gardening books of why this is called Bishop's Weed. It grows about a foot tall and in the early summer it blooms with a stalk topped with what looks to me like a smaller version of Queen Anne's Lace. It can be invasive, but is also easily contained by planting it next to a foundation and surrounding it with rocks or some sort of edging. The leaves will start to get brown edges in dry, hot weather, but that doesn't harm the plant; in fact, a good deep watering will solve the problem.


This closely resembles what my books call Scotch Moss, other than the fact that my planting blooms yellow, while the books picture white blossoms. It grows thickly, forming hillocks as the stalks lay over on themselves. Partial shade and plenty of water are necessary for this groundcover, as with any variety of moss.


I believe this is the most popular groundcover around here, possibly because it is so hardy and will grow in sun or shade. I found some growing by an old, deserted farmhouse and barn, and helped myself to some starts. It has many names, including Common Periwinkle, Vinca Minor and Creeping Myrtle. It blooms in the summer, (periwinkle blue, of course), and grows thickly enough to choke out any noxious weeds that try to compete.


My personal favorite is this groundcover, called Ajuga Reptans or Bugleweed. There is more than one variety, but this picture and the next show the deep green and purplish leaves that appeal to me. It spreads by runners and establishes itself wherever it finds compatible soil. It's also easy to start with rooted cuttings. It can tolerate some sun, but for optimum performance it prefers mostly shade.


...and that's your lesson for the day. There WILL be a test. :)

Roses, Roses

Whether walking south down the pathway, coming in the front door....


or walking north, going out to the car or the garden or the shed....

...these rose bushes are there to please you and bring joy to your day. Their tiny, tiny blossoms grow in clusters like miniature bouquets. The blooms continue all summer, whether you "deadhead" the old blossoms or not, but the bushes look much better, of course, if the old blossoms are removed. Under the bushes is a thick mat of Ajuga, one of the best ground covers around. It keeps the weeds down and helps hold moisture for the roses' roots.

This has been a week of new flowers showing up. The daylilies have started, too, so we're in for quite a show. Hurray for June!

Summer Woes

Here is a recipe for frustration:

1. Make sure your car is plenty dirty, including front and back door mats, inside doors, upholstery, storage area and windows. There should be a) tiny pieces of paper b) somewhat larger mystery pieces of paper c) items to go to St. Vincent’s d) used ink cartridges to go to the Cartridge Depot e) lots of tiny rocks f) mud g) hair h) golf clubs & bag i) golf umbrella j) golf ball retriever k) “green” grocery bags l) golf visors m) empty drink bottles…
2. Wait for a day that is not hot, not humid, not raining, and with minimal bugs.
3. Wait for a day when there are only six other things scheduled, so you have “time” to clean out your car’s interior.
4. Find your handy-dandy portable 33-yr-old vacuum cleaner (it’s in a box, wrapped in plastic to keep the ants out, in the small shed).
5. Take all the parts out of the box.
6. Assemble them.
7. Check to make sure there is a clean bag inside (whew! there is).
8. Go find the car keys.
9. Move the car next to the sidewalk for easy (easier) access.
10. Remove as much of the stuff listed in #1 as possible.
11. Take out the floor mats and smack them around a bit to dislodge some of the dirt & rocks.
12. Go back to the small shed to get the extension cord.
13. Go into the large shed to look for the extension cord.
14. Go back to the small shed to look for the extension cord.
15. Go into the utility room to look for the extension cord.
16. Put the car back together.
17. Put the vacuum cleaner back together.
18. Put it in the box, plastic wrap the box, and return it to the small shed.
19. Leave a telephone message for the person who drives the other car, and undoubtedly has my extension cord in his car.
20. Go to the computer and write this blog entry. Then smile :) Life is good :)

Summer Smiles

Looking out the west window from the kitchen this morning (working at the sink, as usual) I saw this cute little mini-sunflower that apparently shot up overnight. It's one of the wildflowers I planted a year ago that did not show up last year and so I had given up hope that any of them ever would germinate, let alone bloom. I'm sure I'm not the only one who buys those large bags of wildflower seeds that are supposed to turn 100 sq. ft. into a mass of flowers. This one little flower made my day, and a closer look revealed several buds that will be opening soon.

My Mother's Day hibiscus finally found a permanent home, and it is very happy to have root-room to grow. I'm expecting great things because I've been told that these plants get huge and bloom all summer. Since this is a "tropical hisbiscus", I doubt it will make it through the winter, but then sometimes I wonder if I myself will make it through the winter, and I always do!

I liked the contrast here between the dark green, fern-y things at the bottom of the picture and the pale green and pink of the shrub behind them. Last fall I chopped all of this vegetation nearly to the ground because it was leggy, past its prime, and ugly. It's possible that I threatened them with certain death if they didn't perform this year, because look how they responded! :-)

I took another picture of the same bush, because I am so impressed with the delicate pastel leaves and blossoms. The rains followed by a week of warm weather seemed to bring out the best in this year's growth.

These are several small evergreen bushes that keep insisting on working their way out into the pathway along the front of the house. Last fall I realized that moving them would be a major chore, probably involving more energy and more tools than I could manage, so I pruned them way back. Now look what I've done! They are back with a vengeance. (Aren't those little green fingers cute?)

Every now and then a catalog purchase pays off. This is the result of just a half-dozen tiny starts. They got stuck in the ground with not much hope that they would survive, and now they're spreading like crazy... and blooming!

The north side of the house doesn't get much sun, winter or summer, so shade-loving plants, grasses and ground covers have an area where they can survive beautifully (as you can see). We intend to fill the area with a variety of hostas and maybe some bleeding heart plants. There is already a significant amount of moss growing there on its own initiative, so I get a good laugh out of seeing instructions on "how to grow moss"!

Blimey! They're Bloomin'!

These old fashioned climbing roses bloom all summer long at the southeast corner of the house. I did have to spray them for mildew a few days ago, because of all the rain we've been having, but they'll survive.

One of the plants that Marty and Laura brought me for Mother's Day was this hibiscus, and this is its first blossom. As soon as the ground is a little less soggy, I'll plant it and wait for a multitude of blooms, which will appear on this blog later on :)

I promised a picture of the first peony bloom, and here it is, bowing down before the onslaught of day after day of rain. Now that it's drying up a bit, there are many more blooms, and larger ones. I'll get a picture of them tomorrow to share here.

This is my sturdy mock orange that I ordered through the mail several years ago. Naturally, it didn't look anything like the picture in the catalog, being only about 6" tall and severely straggly... but look what it's become! I am disappointed that it has no scent, but the profusion of blossoms makes up for that.

Now competing for space, these clematis vines have so many huge flowers that they're struggling to be seen. Come late fall, I'll split the root ball and put half of this profusion somewhere else for next year's glory.

This poor, overgrown sage plant is literally flat on the sidewalk, completely overcome by the continuing deluge of rain, but it struggles valiantly on and will be standing up straight again after a couple more warm days. (Reminds me of those awful down days that occasionally lay me flat, but I always come back!)

Joys and Sorrows

There is something wonderful about getting older; it probably starts about the time you find yourself rapidly approaching the age of 50. You will see people in their 50s "doing" genealogies and scrapbooks and putting their photos in order, perhaps even getting them all on the web. Why? I think it's because around that age we begin to become more conscious of our mortality (whoa!); we have become grandparents (egads!); our own parents seem suddenly ancient (oops!); our own retirement is closer (yea!). We start thinking about hobbies or about traveling abroad or taking a cruise. So, it's a mixed bag; part of it is joyful and some if it is sad; but in either case, it is a sort of wrapping-up of our lives. It's definitely time to start our own "Bucket List". (If you've not seen that movie, see it! It's about making a list of what you want to do before you "kick the bucket", and Morgan Freeman starring with Jack Nicholson makes for a hilarious, unforgettable movie.)

One of the joys of getting older is recognizing that we actually have a smidgen of the wisdom we've been seeking. We catch ourselves sharing that wisdom with our kids more often (who don't "get" it yet, but will!). Another joy is learning how to slow down, sometimes as a result of that wisdom, sometimes just because our bodies insist on it, and behave badly if we overdo. Another great joy (and also a reward) comes when you find yourself in good health with energy to spare, find yourself trying out the new things that come along with progress, find yourself seeking other outlets for your imagination, find yourself interested in learning new things.

One of the greatest sorrows of getting older is discovering that our parents are reaching the end of their lives, are not well, and need more care... but this is something we have come to expect. However, when we learn that some of our friends, neighbors, relatives and peers are struggling with disease and experiencing a tortuous journey through extended treatments, we struggle along with them. Talk about coming face to face with one's own mortality! Does one ever learn how to accept pain without despair? Death without fear? Loss without emptiness and the agony of depression? When those we love are trying to make it though a worrisome and anxious time, how do we help? How can we keep from feeling terribly guilty about being so glad it's not us?!

I guess this is when we dig deep down into that (however shallow) well of wisdom and call up our better selves, our kinder and gentler natures, and express our caring about and sharing of their pain. Surely we've learned something along the way that taught us to be accepting of whatever the future offers. On the other hand, maybe not. All I know is, feeling helpless is pretty awful, whether it's in relation to others or to ourselves.

"Oats, Peas, Beans and Barley Grow..."

Don't know much about oats or barley (besides the fact that I eat oatmeal for breakfast and put barley in my homemade soups), but I do know a little about peas and beans. Today I bought a packet of bush bean seeds to plant a 16' row and discovered there were only six (count them... 6!) seeds, and the instructions said to plant them 4" apart. Well, hm-m-m, they are a lot farther apart than that, so if one doesn't germinate, I'll just plant something else there. Last year, the few bean plants I had continued to produce well into October. Maybe just for fun I'll toss out some flower seed and see what happens.

On a hunch, I bought some pea seeds, too. Even remembering that the best pea crop I ever got was planted in February(!), I decided to try planting in May just to see what I might get. Even erected a trellis thing-y to support them. Next year (yup, already planning next year's garden) I'll plant some sugar snap peas, because those are the ones I really like. Thinking about asparagus starts, too, because the only way I like asparagus is right out of the garden, fresh and crisp and raw... to get that, you have to plant it yourself!

Gardens and Flowers

Here are some pictures of recent changes around the house, including the beautiful hanging plant (a Mothers' Day gift), the clematis that finally decided to bloom (and we'll have about a hundred more blooms before it's done), and the bush out front of the house that was nearly decimated by the early Spring and late frost of a couple years ago. I'm happy to see it blooming again!

Busy days with the nicer weather finally here. I've been getting the garden planted; all done but the green beans. I have to go to town and get some bush bean seeds today because I had accidentally gotten pole bean seeds. In the past, I've grown both, and though the pole beans are easier to pick, it's hard to find the best way to support them, and the beans themselves seem to be tougher. So, I'll be picking beans on my knees in the dirt again this summer, probably hoping the plants will die because they produce skabillions of beans before they're done.

Lotsa Pics

This is my "Miki Azalea", because she gave it to me years ago. It's a full-sized bush azalea, not a dwarf like the one below. Note the totally different blossoms... each uniquely beautiful.

This is another picture of one of the dwarf azaleas that borders our back patio. It's now in full bloom, and you can compare it to the picture in the previous post, where it is just beginning to flower. Such a change!

An example of how Mother Nature will have her way. You can use dandelion weed killer all you want, and mow your yard every few days, but those darling little yellow flowers will grow where they can and re-seed, too!
We had so much rain, and the grass just kept growing. When it dried out a bit and Mike and the big tractor -mower were available at the same time, they quite literally followed the old adage: "Make hay while the sun shines." Too bad we don't have a hay baler ;-)
I call this one "A Magnificent Profusion of Color".
Lilies of the valley, so tiny and delicate and shy, not to mention short-lived, but well worth it when they bloom. It's quite a sight to see their whitest white supported by their green, broad, elongated, flat leaves.
One of Nature's treasures, hidden away for eight years and finally showing itself. I disturbed the area when I removed the old electric pathway lights and some thick growth. In a few days, there it was!
A cloud of dogwood... glorious.
Almost ready! Lots of compost, bags of topsoil, hours and hours of working with shovels and rakes, and I think another couple goings-over will have the beds ready for planting. Once I get it properly positioned, the wood planks will provide a dry path between the beds... and also edge the beds to keep the soil from getting washed away during "gully-washers". The area in the forefront of the picture is where the old compost pile was, and will be where I plant the 4 tomato plants and 5 pepper plants I bought the other day. That ground is SO rich.