It has been a long, sad week without our dog buddy, Liam. I keep listening for him, wondering where he is. I save him bits of toast. Is it time for him to go out? Very foolish to think these things, as I know he is gone, but old habits are hard to break.
Fortunately for me, the weather has been oh so fine, and I have worked in the gardens all week. Such a consolation, and I can only be grateful that Liam’s decline did not happen in the winter when we were stuck inside. Instead, like a terrier, I have been digging and moving hostas to fill in empty spots left by less hardy plants that didn’t make it. Finally, after nearly thirty years of gardening in this dry, shady yard, after spending too much money on plants that either died or didn’t thrive, I have given into hostas. Now, in our yard, hostas rule.
However, amid the calming foliage of the hostas, there are some budding irises, my favorites..
And front or back, everything is green, green, green. Our yard is held in the palm of the forest.
Amid the green, I love the dash of blue of the little fountain, given to me by “the kids” on my sixtieth birthday. When Clif and I sit on the patio, we can hear the gentle splash of water. So soothing.
And then there’s this dash of orange, which always livens things up.
Believe it or not, wild Sherlock is a comfort, too. He and his gentler sister, Ms. Watson, bring purring life to our evenings, settling beside us as we watch TV.
And so it goes into June. Soon the heavy gardening will be done, and after that, it will be on to bike riding. We’ll probably never be able to keep up with my blogging friend Tootlepedal, who recently biked seventy-six miles in honor of his seventy-six years, but we are going to step up our game, so to speak.
Biking, flowers, time on the patio. Come, summer, come!