Friday, June 7, 2019
2019 Iris Time Part I
This year my hopes for iris blooms was muted. I had redone so many beds. Others were overgrown and in need of rescue. The rain was incessant, and they don't like wet feet--or so I thought. But it has been one of the best iris times in years! You just never know! Enjoy the walk.
Summer Begins June 2, 2019
With the grad parties over, the real summer vacation has begun. The rains of May have been replaced by the rains of June. Will it ever stop? I have no idea. I did, at least, get the entire Acres cut once except for the paths in the Wild Area. If the rain holds off, I'll get that done later this afternoon. I'm not optimistic. I hope I can find them. 
I did get out there and walk around a little bit. First time in a long time. The flowers out there seemed to have bloomed without me--imagine that.
Lots and lots of daisies.
Of course, it was a banner May for iris--and a few more have bloomed to bring in June. A couple more weeks of blooms I imagine. Much work to be done this summer; the rain has given the weeds a huge head start. I do need to take May off one of these years. The seniors could make it without me.
Lilies will be everywhere soon. The goldfish are still up and about. I guess the heron and kingfisher have not been around yet, The rose-breasted grosbeak has made his appearance and the hummers. With this rain I'm sure the Wild Area will be a forest by September. Should be cool. On a sad note, I expect The Sentinel to lose its majestic top soon--it is imitating that place in Pisa very distinctively. How does one grow a new dead tree with such a profile?
Lots of work to do. I've already moved a few things--can't help myself. Put down some gravel. Cut around some of the outside of the beds. Cleared out an area. Put down some mulch as well. I enjoy the labor even if my strength wanes, my endurance fails more quickly, and my bones ache. It's a labor of love, and the battle with the curse is good for body and soul. Bring on June. I am off now to take Evie to summer school. Enjoy your day! I will.
I did get out there and walk around a little bit. First time in a long time. The flowers out there seemed to have bloomed without me--imagine that.Lots and lots of daisies.
Of course, it was a banner May for iris--and a few more have bloomed to bring in June. A couple more weeks of blooms I imagine. Much work to be done this summer; the rain has given the weeds a huge head start. I do need to take May off one of these years. The seniors could make it without me.
Lilies will be everywhere soon. The goldfish are still up and about. I guess the heron and kingfisher have not been around yet, The rose-breasted grosbeak has made his appearance and the hummers. With this rain I'm sure the Wild Area will be a forest by September. Should be cool. On a sad note, I expect The Sentinel to lose its majestic top soon--it is imitating that place in Pisa very distinctively. How does one grow a new dead tree with such a profile?
Lots of work to do. I've already moved a few things--can't help myself. Put down some gravel. Cut around some of the outside of the beds. Cleared out an area. Put down some mulch as well. I enjoy the labor even if my strength wanes, my endurance fails more quickly, and my bones ache. It's a labor of love, and the battle with the curse is good for body and soul. Bring on June. I am off now to take Evie to summer school. Enjoy your day! I will.
Wednesday, May 22, 2019
Down Times and The Acres--Baseball Memories
Warning: Baseball Stuff
A Fan Is Born:
Having been born in Wellston, Missouri, (St. Louis is one of Wellston's larger suburbs), I was destined to grow up a fan of the Cardinals. It was inevitable. Raised on the glories of Musial, Gibson, Schoendiest, Brock, Flood, Boyer, White, Ozzie, McGee, Edmonds and, oh, so many more, the Birds on the Bat are part of my inheritance. And to be a fan of the Cardinals is to be a fan of baseball. To the Cardinal fan, applause is given fr...eely to the great plays made by the opposition as well as by our own gang. "The love of the game" they call it. I have the disease--and I'm not looking for a cure.
My favorite Cardinal of all time may surprise you--Julian Javier. You may have never heard of him. He was a marvelous second baseman back in my youth when I, too, was an infielder. A decent hitter, but, more importantly a golden glove. Turned the double play as graceful as a star at the ballet. Had a tag so swift the umpire had to call the runner out even if he got there first. My herol
My favorite park was Sportsman Park. It had its right field porch and homerun-denying screen as lethal as the Green Monster in Boston. Many a day after I had scrounged together enough money by getting deposits from pop bottles, selling insects to the high school girls for their bug collections, delivering the Wellston Journal, or just begging Mom and Pop for a little loose change, I would head to the park for a game or two. Yep, in those days they had real doubleheaders--two games for the price of one! No, really. Two for one. I would take the Cardinal Express--streetcars and then buses--right to the stadium, settle in for an afternoon of baseball behind the screen in right field, get a couple hot dogs (with the best relish-mustard mix ever), and enjoy.
Favorite moments: Clemente calling a ball off the screen every name imaginable (in Spanish--I didn't understand a word he said, but I understood them all), and then throwing a rocket to home completely over everyone--on the line. Moose Skorown (?) hitting a moonshot up onto the roof in right center, Waiting, waiting, waiting, thud. Touch 'em all Moose. Curt Simmons outdueling Hank Aaron. I swear he threw him 10 changeups in a row before striking him out. Joe Adcock of the Braves hitting a shot halfway up the flagpole in centerfield--and still rising. Now, that was a "monster shot." And my favorite memory, Sitting with Pop in my college days in the cookie cutter Busch watching Cepeda launch a monster shot to left. I think other people were probably there with us--but Pop being there is the only one that I remember.
Born to be a fan. A fan of the game and a devotee to the Cardinals. I have been blessed with a rich heritage. Go Cardinals!!!!
A Fan Is Born:
Having been born in Wellston, Missouri, (St. Louis is one of Wellston's larger suburbs), I was destined to grow up a fan of the Cardinals. It was inevitable. Raised on the glories of Musial, Gibson, Schoendiest, Brock, Flood, Boyer, White, Ozzie, McGee, Edmonds and, oh, so many more, the Birds on the Bat are part of my inheritance. And to be a fan of the Cardinals is to be a fan of baseball. To the Cardinal fan, applause is given fr...eely to the great plays made by the opposition as well as by our own gang. "The love of the game" they call it. I have the disease--and I'm not looking for a cure.
My favorite Cardinal of all time may surprise you--Julian Javier. You may have never heard of him. He was a marvelous second baseman back in my youth when I, too, was an infielder. A decent hitter, but, more importantly a golden glove. Turned the double play as graceful as a star at the ballet. Had a tag so swift the umpire had to call the runner out even if he got there first. My herol
My favorite park was Sportsman Park. It had its right field porch and homerun-denying screen as lethal as the Green Monster in Boston. Many a day after I had scrounged together enough money by getting deposits from pop bottles, selling insects to the high school girls for their bug collections, delivering the Wellston Journal, or just begging Mom and Pop for a little loose change, I would head to the park for a game or two. Yep, in those days they had real doubleheaders--two games for the price of one! No, really. Two for one. I would take the Cardinal Express--streetcars and then buses--right to the stadium, settle in for an afternoon of baseball behind the screen in right field, get a couple hot dogs (with the best relish-mustard mix ever), and enjoy.
Favorite moments: Clemente calling a ball off the screen every name imaginable (in Spanish--I didn't understand a word he said, but I understood them all), and then throwing a rocket to home completely over everyone--on the line. Moose Skorown (?) hitting a moonshot up onto the roof in right center, Waiting, waiting, waiting, thud. Touch 'em all Moose. Curt Simmons outdueling Hank Aaron. I swear he threw him 10 changeups in a row before striking him out. Joe Adcock of the Braves hitting a shot halfway up the flagpole in centerfield--and still rising. Now, that was a "monster shot." And my favorite memory, Sitting with Pop in my college days in the cookie cutter Busch watching Cepeda launch a monster shot to left. I think other people were probably there with us--but Pop being there is the only one that I remember.
Born to be a fan. A fan of the game and a devotee to the Cardinals. I have been blessed with a rich heritage. Go Cardinals!!!!
Sunday, May 12, 2019
Iris Time 2019
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