All posts by Helen C

Summer

Summertime

Rosa Granada

Yesterday was everything a summer day should be — sunny and hot. I went to the Norwich Farmer’s Market in the morning. The local strawberries are in; the peonies are abundant. In the afternoon, we went swimming in Lake Pinneo. The water was so cool and fresh.

Coming back from my morning walk with Cammy, I noticed three roses in full bloom in the front border. They smell heavenly. They are right next to a stand of peonies that I transplanted from a shadier border four years ago. The peonies finally started blooming last year and they have a lovely rose-like scent.

The garden is doing so well. Right now the goldflame honeysuckle is the star. I didn’t prune it as severely as I have in the past and it has taken over the central part of the fence. It is frequented by a ruby-throated hummingbird — always a delight to see.

I wish I could say I knew what I was doing with this garden, but it’s a lot of luck. I inherited some of it, but have tried to focus on adding new perennials. A lot of the plants I inherited are listed in my flower encyclopedia as “tending toward weediness.” This seems to be polite gardenspeak for “don’t touch this with a ten-foot pole.” I’ve tried to contain or eliminate the more aggressive of these species, and have met with some success.

Dogs

Still Life with Labrador

1 Comment

Cammy O’Rose, June 22, 2005

She is old, but not old enough to sit quietly while I work.
Her cold nose bumps my left hand, warm tongue
Slipping out to taste the salt of my palm.
She sits back and waits; staring at me implacably,
Her liquid eyes saying: “Take me walking now.”

Uncategorized

Midsummer Night’s Update

Garage/Office, June 21, 2005

It’s taken almost two months, but some wood finally went up on the garage today. The site work was difficult; those difficulties were compounded by weeks of rain. But today, at last, the smell of freshly-sawed lumber was in the air.

Here it is — the actual summer solstice. I could take the gloomy point of view and say it is all downhill from here … the days are growing shorter and shorter until we’re deep in the heart of winter darkness.

Or I could say, it’s a beautiful night and we are going to go walk Cammy in the moonlight.