Blueberry Leaves

When I went out to take a picture of the row of tulip buds in the garden I glanced over to see that all three of my valiant blueberry bushes are leafing out.  Hooray!  This week I have to go buy 3 5-gallon pots (not black) and some soilless planting mix, dig them up, and transplant them to the front edge of the garden where they'll be buried up to their rims in the ground.  That way I can control the soil and water and nutrients they get and make them happier so they'll grow more blueberries for me--and they won't be shaded by the tomatoes all summer long.  My friend BD has offered pine needles for mulch which will make the blueberries exceedingly happy.  I can't wait.  The forsythia's still blooming away flashing its brilliant yellow flowers against the blue spring sky and as I left for work yesterday I saw that my favorite tulip--the orange one with the lilac outside--is beginning to bloom in the grape hyacinths.  The tulips only bloom for a short time but they're so pretty.

I completely forgot that tonight's the knitting guild annual picnic until about 7 o'clock last night.  Oops.  Good thing I had a can of chickpeas (garbanzo beans, I love 'em) and some jarred roasted red pepper so I could whip up a batch hummus to take along.  Now all I need to do is pick up a bag of pita chips, dig out my bag o'chair, and zoom off to the party.  Whew.

The other morning I talked to our neighbor who told me that they're going to Yellowstone next month so I dug out all our guidebooks and maps (with the sticky notes still attached) to lend to them.  She was thrilled.  I imagine them poring over the pages just like we did.  Knowing that the neighbors are going to Yellowstone brought all the memories flooding back so I'm enjoying them all over again.  We have to map out a route (Durwood has a plan, I think) and start figuring out where we'll be when on our Carolinas jaunt in the fall so we can find places to stay.

May 9--Nicolas Poussin, Saints Peter and John Healing the Lame Man.  'Rise up and walk' is easier said than done, Leah thought.  Not that she couldn't walk in the literal sense but years of self-doubt had a similar effect as a lame leg.  Lame, that's how she felt most of the time.  Ineffectual and halting pretty much summed up her life up to now.  One evening seated near the middle of a darkened auditorium listening to a motivational speaker wasn't a cure-all but she did feel an unfamiliar lightness walking back to her car.

Now we all know that there's someone lurking in the darkness to do her harm but I thought I'd let her have this little time of peace before slamming her to the concrete, also I was tired and it was late.  Or she could be a latent superhero just waiting for an opportunity to dispatch the bad guys.  You can fill in the rest for yourself.  Time to clean up, eat up, and zoom off.  Bye.
--Barbara