rain

It was a welcome shower. If anything, I'd complain it wasn't long enough, forceful enough, deep enough to really get to the roots of the thirsty plants at the farmette.

Pouty skies: they let out a short drizzle, then clam up again. All day long.

And so I work.

But in the afternoon, I need a break. These are the last days when I can put in plants for a June bloom period. Bearded irises, for example. Dave, over at the Flower Factory promised he'd hunt me up some leftovers. Ed and I set out to pick them up.

Past fields of brown and just a touch of green.






The Flower Factory is ever tempting. It's like setting loose a kid in a candy shop.






Irises. Stick with those. No more other planting this year.






At the farmette, I have this deep gratitude for the late bloomers. I hardly plant for late summer at all and yet, come September, there's still plenty of color in the garden.






Evening. Ed has been waiting for me to help him lift some of the fabric under the far end of the raspberry patch. It shouldn't take long -- famous last words. We struggle with just one strip (you need to lift a lot of sod before you can get to the fabric) for half an hour and it is such heavy work that we give up the rest for another day.

Besides, I have dinner to fix for the four of us -- a Sunday meal, with my daughter and her husband. It's cold tonight. We eat inside.






The skies clear at night. And again we wake up to a bright and sunny day. A Wisconsin fall -- quintessentially upbeat. Quintessentially beautiful.

Breakfast. With a handful of strawberries from the patch.