taking care

I would like to believe that ultimately, we are destined to take care of each other. That aberrations in this regard are flukes, based on temporary strays down wrong paths and eventually we default to concern for others in our behavior. 

I would also like to believe that we care for all living things, and distraction rather than selfishness leads us sometimes to act with vindictiveness or indifference to the plight of flora and fauna with which we coexist.

I would also like to believe that if you care about people, animals, plants, they do better, you do better and we reach a sweeter place in life, thriving rather than wilting, withering, disintegrating into a heap of rubbish.

I thought about this yesterday as I surveyed about half a dozen sick day lilies in my yard. Day lilies that received my utmost attention: proper care, even deadheading religiously each spent flower, promoting more vigorous growth. I read on the internet that they are likely infected and they pose a danger to the rest of the lilies in the yard. And yes, I have hundreds of day lilies here, in the farmette flower fields.

Last night I did several things: Ed and I stayed up until some late night hour (or was it early Friday morning?) starting in on our taxes (due on Monday). I have mine and my mom's to do and the process is always tedious and time consuming. My tax work was interspersed with an online search for Mom furniture and for sick lily remedies. The lily news I picked up was not good. The verdict appeared to be a fungus infestation and treating them requires frequent applications of a fungicide that may poison who knows what in the area. Or I can dig them out and burn them (or throw them in a sealed bag in the trash). Otherwise, the spread of the fungus may take away even more lilies.

This morning then, after the walk (and after Ed puts out the tomatoes for the day)...

And after breakfast...

I take stock of the sick lilies. And I can't get myself to toss them. I call Oakes, my favorite day lily farm. I talk to the woman in charge there and she tells me to forget about what I read on the internet. The day lilies may be stressed from the heaving weather we've had here in Wisconsin, but they are not dying from any fungus. Take down the bad leaves (which in a couple of cases means take down most of the leaves) and leave them alone. They will rebound once the weather stabilizes. And so yet again I come to this same old conclusion that seems to evade us so often: be careful in accepting at face value anything you may read on the internet. Right? You think you're a seasoned researcher, but you're not. Watch your sources and the application of facts to your particular reality. Wisconsin is not a place where day lily fungus thrives.

In the meantime, Ed, groggy from lack of sleep (he wears tiredness right there on his sleeve), slogs out to the farmette lands which are soon to be converted to a forest. He is still pruning, mowing and clearing the land. I'd say 90% of the job is done, in that we can start planting when the trees arrive. Still, I hear that power saw going back there so we are not totally out of the woods (ha!) yet.

In the meantime, it is a lovely day -- ravishingly beautiful. May beautiful. In the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop. 

(watering the lilac...)

 

 

I have to say, if Snowdrop was to pick one color (and outfit) to wear again and again this spring, she chose well for this brilliant month! Blues in the fields of lemon green and yellow dandelions... Colors of a painting.

We walk to the field which is to become the young farmette forest.

She is especially exploratory today. I can keep up, but just barely!

As I get ready to take her home, Ed asks me -- you want to plant trees when you get back?

But, but, the taxes! Dinner! Everything else on this planet!

Still, the trees have arrived. We're set to start digging. Tomorrow. Tonight? A sweet moment with Primrose...

... then a work night, to make progress with "everything else on this planet."