The Flowers That Bloom in June

Dad's roses are blooming with abandon right now.  There are clusters of buds and flowers on the end of each cane... well, except for the one that the %#$&! chipmunk gnawed off.  This is a time that I wish we had smell-o-vision because these roses smell like heaven.  Actually they smell like Grandma Angermeier's garden did when I was a little girl.  She didn't have a pretty, decorative rose garden, she had two loooooong rows of rose bushes along the edge of the field right next to the house, all colors, all types, and she knew every one by name.  Her favorite was the Mr. Lincoln which was a deep red rose much like Dad's rose but I know for a fact that this isn't a Mr. Lincoln.  I don't know which one it is but I do know what it isn't.  Oh, and speaking of the chipmunk, I put seeds in the platform feeder this evening and the little devil can shinny up the crook, even with a Slinky on the pole, so I liberally sprinkled chili powder over the seeds.  It won't bother the birds but it should wreak havoc with the chipmunks.  I hope.



These are the last of the yellow Asiatic lilies for the year.  There are no more buds to open and the bunnies have nibbled up the leaves to just under the flowers.



 


I was excited to see that the first zinnia bloomed today.  It's tiny, maybe the size of a half-dollar, and I think it looks great towering over the mass of white petunias it shares a planter with.


 

More red day lilies to come.  One seems to open every day.





 
Today was a knitting day.  I added quite a few rows to the left front of my cardi--after counting stitches and rows and engaging in some arithmetic to figure out the best plan to decrease to the correct number of stitches in the correct number of rows.  I think I've got it.  I do like knitting that decreases rather than increases, it's just so satisfying when progress speeds up.


June 27--Royal Crown Derby, Vase.  Clarissa stood at the table dusting the ornate vase that she always thought looked like a genie should live in it.  Every week she rubbed the vase with a soft cotton cloth and while she did she murmured her three wishes--that Mama would make someone else dust all this stuff, that her pimples would go away, and that her sister Hildy would stop hogging all the cute boys at choir practice.  She didn't think that was too much to ask.

I wore my new fish dress today.  I like it.  I look good in it.  It's probably too scratchy to wear without a shirt underneath it but I suspect that I'll be wearing it and washing it enough that it'll soften up over time.

I see that I'm getting better at getting this blog written before the witching hour.  Good for me and good for getting enough sleep.  Pleasant dreams, dudes and dudettes.
--Barbara