A month of Saturdays

Memory is such an odd thing. At the moment, there is a panel from the comic strip 'Peanuts' floating around in my brain. One of the characters in the strip is uttering a well timed, "Good Grief". I can't quite remember  which character says it, though. I want to say it's Charlie Brown, but then I think it must be Lucy. Or Linus. I notice that I haven't posted here for an entire month. Good Grief.

It's been a busy time. There's been quite a bit of work at the garden. I still haven't gotten around to writing much about Solar Hill, where my little plots of insanity are located. I could swear (and I do more than I'd like) that I've written a brief history of the place. It was once a Governor's (and Senator's) mansion. The house has also been used for research by an optics company, as the main building of an experimental college, and has for over 20 years now been used as offices for alternative healers, therapists, and similar or related services. A second building was added at some point - I think for the college. It now houses the Neighborhood School House, an experimental educational facility of some note. They've added pre-school. Every nice day, shortly after 10:30am one group heads to the garden during recess, and I instantly hear the voices of 6 or 7 of the very youngest youngsters calling out, "Hi, Steven", "Hi, Steven", "Hi Steven". I both love it and want to run and hide at the same time.



I always feel odd taking pictures with people in them. I don't want to 'invade' someone's space.
As the tulips started blooming, a couple of the kids saw me about to take a picture and asked
if I would include them. As I'm not mentioning anyone's name, I hope it's okay to post this.

 

The above photo of tulips is not one I had intended to post - it's inclusion was an accident. I can't get rid of it, though. If I add a caption, the photo vanishes along with the photo above it. If I try to delete it, all heck breaks loose and much of the text vanishes. Or re-arranges itself. After struggling with it for awhile, I decided to utilize the lessons acquired in the aging process and simply let it be.

In April and for a good bit of May I spent so much time working on Solar Hill's gardens that I'm now pressed to catch up with my own. At the moment, I'm glowing over the return to blooming life of a few of the iris. The white ones haven't bloomed in many years. The ever so delicate light yellow ones haven't bloomed in many years longer. Soil amendments helped. (Sometimes spreading manure is a good thing.) Weeding helped - I now firmly believe that the Iris don't like too much around them. They want to show off and become somewhat recalcitrant if they sense any blooming competition.  The yellow iris were left behind by my friend Jonathon and incorporated into my garden when I had to move it many years ago to make more room for the schoolhouse's playground area. I remember them as being of a darker shade, with brown falls and veining. Maybe that one is there but hasn't bloomed yet? Maybe it has something to do with the soil? At any rate, they only bloomed once after their initial move. I've moved them over the last two autumns, and this year they finally seem happy. (They should be, they are where they can show off.) I've long had a problem with yellow colors in the garden - I just don't know how to use them to my liking. Maybe that's because I don't try very often.
But these delight me.

Blogger is once again giving me a bit of trouble, and the morning is a wastin'.  Time to go. More on the garden, and May's radio shows, later.