Maybe their love of gardening comes from the Farmer and me. We were both raised on a farm, working on the land and helping with the family harvests. We always had a big vegetable garden when they were small. They still remember picking up potatoes in the hot June sun, and just when we thought they were all picked up, their daddy would plow through the rows again, exposing a few more potatoes to pick up.
I love planting seeds, waiting anxiously for them to germinate, pop up little green leaves through the ground, and watching them grow to bloom. Of course all seeds don't do so well and my thumb seems to be brown rather than green. I have better luck with flowers grown from bulbs.
This Asiatic lily has spread and is probably three feet across the top. It will need to be divided this fall.
On Mother's Day, Andrea brought this wreath to me. Isn't this a clever idea: a stryofoam base, covered with empty flower seed packets and a pair of gardening gloves.
We have started the hay season. The steps up into my tractor seem to be higher this year, and the constant back and forth bouncing over the rough field make the old muscles tired when evening comes. Fall away, fall away; when you're happy, the years just fall away.