Lynne Irons

Summertime Bounty

I'm a big fan of bad weather. Monday morning's unexpected rain gave me a much-deserved day off.

 

 

 
It’s truly astonishing how quickly weeds and other unwanted greenery can grow and get away from me. I kept a horse and a donkey on the back part of the property for at least a decade. They kept all vegetation trimmed right to the ground. The donkey, a Death Valley rescue, even ate poison ivy and prickers. He wrapped his little donkey lips around wild roses and berries.
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That was some serious rain last Friday evening. I love it. I did not have to haul hoses around for several days.

Before I got to mention the locust blooms, they were gone. How does that happen? I hope everything is in season forever in heaven.

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Another beautiful week in garden world. I can’t decide if oriental poppies or ancient peonies are my favorites. I have a Sarah Bernhart peony right next to the Princess Victoria Louise poppies. I’ve had both longer than I can remember and every year I marvel.

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I know most folks were pretty sour about the cold, rainy Memorial Day weekend. I wasn’t one of them. I was pretty content in full rain gear happily weeding in the vegetable garden. There is something about a gray day to bring out the beauty in a garden.

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I have several young women who work for me at various job sites. Several have traveled around working at organic farms here and abroad. As we were settling down to enjoy our lunch one day last week, Angela George commented, “I wish I could weed with my mind.” Don’t we all wish? There must be a way.

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Here it is Mother’s Day, and I must say it’s been emotionally challenging today. This is my first one without a mother. Grief has some interesting twists and turns. However, everything seems right in the world for the moment. We had a lovely rain last evening and full-on beautiful sun and sky for the Sunday festivities. Son Reuben and grandson Christian gave me several hours of brawn. There is always something heavy to move around at my place. I’ve finally accepted the limitations of this aging body and no longer try to do it myself.

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