Primo Vere

Carl Orff had his finger on it.

I’ve been meaning to get some Spring pictures up for a while but foolish things keep interrupting like work and sleeping and, well, working in the yard and then sleeping in the sun. Here’s the front yard the day the iris finally started blooming.

Lavender Iris

Pink Iris

IMG_2406

Yellow Iris

The burgundy and peach ones in the back yard are yet to come and the baby Dutch are just starting to open.

Here’s the herb bed I dug last fall (nearly knackered my bad leg) with basil, winter savory, oregano, more basil, opal basil, and parsley getting settled in it.

Spice Rack

 

I was dead cert this clematis had gone tits-up over the winter but no, before I even looked for it, it exploded.

IMG_2416

And David, the Diva Gardener, has returned. After four months of sulky silence occasioned by my refusal to let him start sawing and nailing at some incipient wood-rot on my back sun porch — the cats love that porch, and David could fuck up a soup sandwich, so it’s not worth the risk — he sloped back into the yard in April as if nothing had ever happened and planted some radishes. I stumbled across the tillage rather unexpectedly; it looked as if someone had crept into my yard and interred a leprechaun. Eventually I crossed his path and decided not to allude to the past autumn’s drama, which had included among other things me standing naked in my dining room fifteen minutes before a client was due, hanging up on him in the middle of a list of references. He has onions, coriander, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash and beans working out there now.

I had offered him, in lieu of the coveted wood rot job, a half day’s work taking out a dead arbor vitae along the back fence. I never got an answer from him out of that, but last week he asked “What ya gonna do about that dead tree?” (No printed word can give a hint of his cornpone accent, which sounds like Gomer Pyle fucked George Wallace and sent the baby to grow up in the swamp.) I am damned if he is getting the job after all that. I pinched the bottom half of the tree to death with loppers, called the county to pick up the brush, and told the Cute Engineer I had a job for his cordless chainsaw.

I don’t know when he’ll get around to it. I may be putting Christmas balls up on that dead tree, but principle is principle.

PS: Anyone have any idea why the fuck I can’t get even my own videos to embed on fucking WordPress any more? Did I miss something? Was I in the bathroom?

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12 thoughts on “Primo Vere

  1. Clematis always dies back in the winter, but returns bigger and bigger every year! I’m waiting for mine to bloom, but forgot if it is a summer or spring or fall bloomer.

    LOVE the iris! Especially the pale pink/lavender ones. Third pic, anyway.

    It’s so wonderful to see that you getting out there and grubbing in the dirt 🙂 Screw David, he’s just using your space!

    I really hope someone answers your embedding query, I’ve given up and I have some hilarious cat videos, too. Sigh…

    • Oh good, it’s not just me. Maybe I will hunt on the WordPress forums.

      David is definitely using my space, but I wouldn’t be able ever to cultivate the number of vegetables he does, so it works out.

      • Oh, exactly, I’m a sharecropper and I get to eat anything I want from the garden. So in return for putting up with David I get to walk out my back door anytime from midsummer right through November and grab something out of the dirt and eat it.

        Pay dirt! Here’s a reply from WordPress forums and it WORKED:

        Also, while our editor is absolutely supposed to do it itself, sometimes it won’t pick up that a something is a YouTube video. If for some reason it doesn’t you can always go in and embed it yourself using the following shortcode:


        or

        (make sure you don’t use the youtube link that includes the word “embed” as that can mess our shortcodes up!).

  2. Reblogged this on Man of Roma and commented:
    “Amor vincit omnia et nos cedamus amori?”

    More than 1000 years later,
    au Moyen Âge, un fou du roi Arthur, chantait:

    Ce fut au temps qu’arbres fleurissent,
    Herbes et bois et prés verdissent,
    Et les oiseaux en leur latin
    Chante doucement au matin
    Et tout être de joie enflamment

    (Perceval ou le Conte du Graal)

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