66 dollars

I just planted $66.00 worth of flowers. At pony-pack prices, that's a whole lot of posies. I planted snow drops and red-carpet steppables (you can walk on them, although I hope not to) and grace ward lithodora and trailing lobelia and geraniums and pansies and verbena and one regal begonia. It had better be regal for 7 bucks. And sweet peas. I love sweet peas. I planted a big pot of sweet peas and planted sweet pea seeds all around it just for insurance.

willow fencing









I will post a picture of all this crap just for you. I pulled dandelions by hand and edged the front retaining wall bed with a willow-stick fence. I didn't get out my dandelion puller, although I have one. I use that for the big jobs. WE don't have any dandelions in OUR backyard. It is pure, pristine, all green sod--pure grass. My dandelion puller is great, though. It is a machine I bought when swearing off roundup, but I've backslid since and poisoned stuff with limited remorse. I'll say this and reap the backlash, but I don't really know if we'll be around to reap the rewards of our collective bad behavior, Al. Probably some metaphoric Korean gunslinger will wipe us all out in the nick of time, just as the level of roundup in the water supply reaches tasteable levels. Toxic? Who cares? Does it TASTE good?

I know this is only my blog, and I know I have neglected social or political commentary. I know. I know. But this recent killing spree, this most recent catastrophe of oversight and neglect (I won't attempt to say of or by whom) is just further evidence to support my belief that the human race has yet to prove its adaptivity.

I hate politics.

I just plant my garden and love my husband and miss my son and feed this new family of mine who is one more today with a grandson, Michael, here for dinner and fishing on the Willamette in the morning. And during the week, I make money by watching over 15 little gray-headed women plus Abe. Abe is the only man, unless we move Sam in. I don't think they would get along. Sam is too pushy. Abe is a softie. The ladies, some of them, are dying this Saturday afternoon. I make no predictions. This isn't the lottery. Not an event but a process, to quote often trite self-help jargon...But Alice and Pansy are fading slowing into the west. Godspeed.