Greetings, my fellow port swillers!
A warm and muggy morning here at Port Swiller Manor, par for the course for most of the summah but still something of a seasonal novelty here in mid-May. Ol’ Robbo is weighing the odds on whether he’ll be able to grill out this evening and guessing the answer is probably not. (We’ve had quite a bit of rain here this spring, continuing the trend from last year.)
Another peony for you:

This is my favorite of the varieties I have. I love the smooth, creamy petals and lack of fuss. You will argue that peonies are inherently fussy and that if these are my criteria, perhaps I should be growing something else. I will counter that that’s what makes this one so satisfying. When Ol’ Robbo undertakes the Great Rootball Separation this fall (stop laughing), I intend to keep the progeny of this one and give away some of the others. (It occurred to me the other day that my church, which has some big flower beds, might be interested in this. Donating some specimens there would make Ol’ Robbo very happy.)
Speaking of such things, the wisteria are now in full bloom. Ol’ Robbo has lots of wisteria: they run all the way down one side of the backyard fence and surround the back porch. The result is that during peak bloom season, great waves of scent roll across the yard. It’s quite lovely.
Roses are next, and foxglove, followed by the great snowy field which is my oak-leaf hydrangea hedge. And before you know it, it’ll be high summah and the butterfly bush will be powering up. Tempus fugit, indeed.
Those of you following along will be pleased to know that the rhodies I planted a few weeks back seem perfectly happy, especially with all this rain. Similarly, the climbing hydrangea is already showing signs of growth. I’m guessing that it will shoot up pretty quickly. Out of an abundance of caution, I decided to go ahead and throw some chicken-wire around the young thing. As I’ve said before, the deer don’t seem to come into the yard anymore, but the woodchucks do. I haven’t seen any yet this year and I don’t know that they’d eat it, but strong fences make good neighbors (a rule of thumb that seems to have been long forgotten – or should I say flagrantly ignored – among Our Betters).
What else? Ol’ Robbo has held off trumpeting it so far this year, but starting the third season of having a weed and feed service I have not seen the lawn look this good in a very long time. The Reconquista of some bald spots under the trees is particularly gratifying. I pat myself on the back a bit, too, because the liming and reseeding protocols that I picked up from the service and now do myself are genuinely paying off.
Whelp, since the time I sat down here with my kawfee, you may add “rainy” to my description of the morning. Fortunately, I mowed yesterday, but I still need to go out with the weed-whacker and trim the edges. As I said last week, I’m still enjoying the feeling of being in control of things, all the more so since I know it can’t last.
Iced Kawfee UPDATE: (Because, like John Houseman, I’ve eeeeearned it.) Did Ol’ Robbo say “control”? I noticed the morning-glories are already at it in my raspberry patch (they’ll eventually get into the hydrangea and butterfly bush, too). They sink me every year in the end. I’m doomed.
Meanwhile, I wound up spending several hours dealing with a large foundational boxwood-sort-of-thing and a pernicious vine with large round leaves. The latter grows up inside the former, not only tangling it up but also getting into the surrounding trees and shrubs. Ol’ Robbo probably does not unsheathe the pruning tool as often as he should, but when I do I tend to go berserk like the old Vikings.
And finally, with exquisite timing Mrs. R’s Mothers’ Day rose chose to open up this morning. Enjoy!
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