Please note the lack of any bruising or bumping -- and for that we thank homeopathic Arnica, administered within half an hour of the accident and again at bedtime.
As to Mr Half-Soled Boots, a biopsy was performed on Tuesday morning, but we haven't received the results. Officially, we don't even have a diagnosis yet, although the heavy-dose steroid treatment is in full swing (wow, there goes Mr HSBoots, leaping tall buildings in a single bound!!). Thank you for your prayers and good wishes. And I must say it was a novelty to receive 17 actual comments. I felt faint for a minute when I saw that.
Now that I'm home and everyone is recovering, I am starting to feel a bit more Myself. I have a lot to do this summer, once summer actually begins (and yes, I know it was the solstice last night - doesn't change the fact that I have the heat on today, people). I have put a few things into the island bed:
and am quite happy to see these for the first time in two years. The deer got them last year but I carefully fenced them this time. Take that, you ravenous bastards.
I'm in high hopes that with a few days of sun I will see my echinacea purpurea magnus open...I can't wait for that.
Also, I should have a few shasta daisies soon. There's a story behind this. I put these in a year ago, but didn't get any flowers on them because they were first-years. I was very excited to see them this spring, and watched with glee as they got higher and higher. One day a month or so back, I came home from somewhere and did my routine check of the garden. I was devastated to see all my shasta daisies cropped off close to the ground. I stood there in shock, and of course started cursing the deer in every tongue I know (so, English). Mr HSB came to the door, saw me, and said, "Oh.....so those weren't weeds, then." Apparently that's what I get for nagging my husband to please, please weed-whack the edges of the driveway. Luckily, a few of them hadn't really stuck their necks out yet, and those ones have grown and put out a few tentative flowers.
Lastly, I was pleasantly surprised to see the first flowers I've had on my rambling rose. When we moved into this house I thought it was one of those little volunteers that don't put out blooms, so for two years I tried (and failed) to rip it out from amongst the root base of the ornamental cherry in which it grows. Last year I didn't quite get all of the branches cut, and Lo and Behold, roses. I looked it up, and it turns out that particular plant is a biennial, which means it blooms on last year's canes. Trial and error, people: this is why learning to be a gardener is a lifetime study.
Tomorrow (yes, really: tomorrow edit: make that today), I'll show you what I've been working on, needle-and-thread wise.