You can tell that spring is winding down.
The temperature is rising slightly.
There are fewer rainy days.
And the big garden jobs are done.
The few pots I have are planted.
Tulips have been pulled.
And the plants I couldn’t resist
Have nestled into their new home.
Now comes the weekend
When there is time
To putter.
You know
Doing the little things
That you’ve been walking past
And ignoring
Till the time was right.
Digging and thinning the Iris.
Hanging the sticky traps for those nasty thrip.
Spreading the crushed egg shells around the Hosta
Hoping to discourage the slugs and snails.
Planting the first Zinnias in the bare spots.
Staking, trimming and caging the tomatoes.
It’s going to be a good tomato year
Since I’m all ready seeing blooms and tomatoes
And finding time to see the world
Through my macro lens
Discovering a pollen laden bee
Inside a Hollyhock bloom.
I so enjoy puttering.
Gail
P.S. In my last blog I said that there was not a farmer in my generation.
I stand corrected and apologize.
My sister Ann took delivery on her new tractor this week.
She’ll use it as she tends her 40 acre pecan grove.
Planted by our father.
Which she inherited
And is improving.
So she can pass it on
To the next generation.
In My Garden 
Thanks Gail