The perfect summer day

It was the perfect summer day yesterday. Weatherwise, it was 24oC. There was a slight breeze to cool things off. The neighbour's bunnies were lazily hopping around in their overgrown yard. Bits of dandelion fluff and poplar cotton were swirling gently about in the sunlight filtering through the crabapple trees pouring over the fence. Crabapple blossoms were flittering down from the branches, and little chicadees and red breasted robins were pecking away at real or imaginary worms in the dirt.

I had returned home from work and had decided it was time to put some plants in the ground. The earth greedily absorbed the moisture I was pouring on them, and my coral bells and forget-me-nots were perking up from this. The Veronica and delphiniums are starting to look like what they should. My blue poppy plant had survived the winter and it looks like I will have a small blue poppy this year. My tulips are almost done- the pink and white ones are open beyond their normal bounds and the only tulips that are still at their peak are the late flowering little pink ones that were planted in the shade of the deck.

As I worked the shovel into the dirt to make way for the the new plants I got, for that one infinitesimal moment in time, it is as if time slowed down, and the mosquitoes stopped biting, and the heat didn't matter, and the snow-in-the-mountain runners I had been battling for two years stopped bothering me and everything was perfect , and I almost felt contentment.

War of the dandelions

I woke up this morning to the horror that is my so-called garden. I mowed the lawn last week and to my dismay, it had all grown back, and then some. I should really say I mowed the weeds last week as that is what it is. It was a sea of yellow. It would almost looks pretty if I didn't know what torturous roots and seedlings that have taken hold in my very own backyard. It's the revenge of the dandelions!! Now, remembering my discussion with my neighbours about making dandelion wine (hey, if life gives you dandelions, make dandelion wine!), I proceeded to dutifully collect some flower heads. I had plucked maybe about 20 flowers and had not even made a dent in my yard, when I figured that I could probably make it. At first, I was sceptical as I needed an ice cream bucket full of flowers for the wine. But when I realised I had to pluck off all the sepals and any green parts, it became clear to me this was going to be a nightmarish task. I tried, instead to see if I could eat dandelion greens-and chewed on some fresh and tender green leaves- it was nasty bitter and I promptly spat it out. So, instead, peered over the fence and the neighbours were there so I invited them to help me make dandelion wine (it's called redistribution of work) but they were not that interested. So- intead, I hauled out the lawn mower and mowed them all down. The yard looks fabulous now- only because I've cut all the dandelions down- but I am sure by next week- it will start looking jungly again out there.



In honour of the dandelion massacre, I made the card below. Okay so I havn't yet made the card. But imagine a card with the yellow of dandelions and the green of dandelion leaves. A little black sentiment and some ribbon, perhaps my favourite black gingham....