Mom's irises

If spring is here, it has shown up and remained cloaked in an elusive disguise. We've had such weird peaks and valleys of temperature, many of the plants are both stunted and blooming, every day requires a varied wardrobe... Nonetheless, as June draws nigh, it seems enough sun has shone that my garden's earnest perseverance has paid off. The Japanese maple that Dad brought me many years ago as a tiny sapling is healthy and effusive, its branches reaching mightily past those of the tall - what are they- trees lining our fence which selfishly hoard the sun's rays. As if channeling Gloria Gaynor, this lovely maple will survive. Today I tied the branches up a bit, not only because I dislike (immensely) bushy, low-slung maples and so want it to reach up rather than out, but also because doing so would give the many irises Mom has brought to me over the years - rhizomes packed carefully in wet paper towels wrapped in newspaper, foil and Ziplocs in her suitcases- more room to stretch and thrive.

Just before Mom left last Saturday, we noticed a number of emergent buds in my iris patch. Irises are fun because for a while, unless you've marked them carefully or memorized exactly which is which, you don't have a clue as to what color will ultimately show. At least I never do. And then today, voila. A Cherry Cup, maybe a Sea Wisp, maybe even a Louisiana Blue. I'm not totally sure except for the CC, but in any case, they make me think of home and that makes me happy. They are spectacular flowers, aren't they?!

Elia has just given me the wonderful gift of going to pick both kiddos up from school!! Ooh, an hour in my house. I'm having a strange and strong yen for an ice cream cake (what, am I turning 8 again?) and may start in on an ice cream base... For lunch we had whole wheat spaghetti with ramp-walnut pesto, mozzarella, and lemon. Nice.