Just because the calendar says it's June...

does not mean it's warm here.  I spent Sunday, June 1st, wearing a long sleeved T-shirt and heavy sweatshirt while at work.

It also does not mean we're out of the rainy season. I spent the day Tuesday, June 3rd, in rain gear while unloading trucks and hustling the delicate flowers inside to avoid being crushed by the heavy drops.

At home, the delicate flowers are in the ground, not pots, and so cannot be moved.  So today, our verbascum is not a "perky" lass like she was the other day. Poor dear!

One of my customers asked me if the pepper and tomato plants came with jackets or sweaters this year. I laughed and said no, but that's a great idea!  They sure need them this year.

"Hey lady, I'm a heat lover and I'm C-O-L-D!"

 

"Hey thanks! I'm warmer now.  I look like a freakin' elf, but I'm warmer now."

 

-- Wing Nut

 

Mange-tout

The peas have been producing flowers galore. And today I spotted the first two peas on the shorter, white-flowering plants. Most exciting.

 

Dwarf Grey Sugar

Oregon Sugar Pod II

 

Garden Bloggers' Muse Day--June 2008

I spy a blackberry vine. Can you find it? How many dandelions can you count? For more GBMD posts check out Sweet Home and Garden Chicago.

BACKYARD OPERA

I march through the yard with a hard eye,

yanking weeds, asserting a path,

incensed by the relentless advance

of honeysuckle and morning glory vines

weaving under everything like an insidious subtext,

determined to have their loopy, insensible say

even as I slash them back, seeking their polyphonous source,

my finite gestures meaning nothing to them,

as they know I will tire, drift back into the house

and forget our duet for days, even weeks,

letting them spin their tales, full of plot twists,

almost orchestrating my little bench into their melody,

so that when I finally cut back a spot and sit,

and the chimes pick up a phrase of wind,

it becomes clear I am just a half note of silence,

a pause in the longer song.

--Aleida Rodríguez, Garden of Exile, 1999