On a happier note, the eighteenth bean seed finally decided to show itself. We now have 100% germination! The second piece of good news is that we got a nice soaking rain. You can almost hear the plants breathing a sigh of relief. They much prefer rain over tap water and seem to perk up and stand straighter after a nice rain. Of course, the weeds also love a soaking rain- as evidenced by the growth spurt the nasty things put on during the night. My nemesis for the last few years has been bindweed. It is nigh on impossible to eradicate, and reading that its roots can extend and run more than 20 feet below the soil and that its seeds can that remain viable for as long as 50 years is not very encouraging. I avoid using herbicides so have been diligently hoeing and digging it out where I can and cutting it off at ground level when it's too close to other plants to cultivate. By cutting it off at soil level I'm hoping to deprive it of the light necessary for photosynthesis so it will eventually weaken and die. I'm pretty sure, though, that the stuff is so persistent that it will outlive me by a decade or more!
I'm hoping that once the ground dries a little, we'll be able to begin working on the second herb and flower bed on the other side of the rose arbor. The plan is to relocate the wood hyacinths to the front yard and replace them with iris and shasta daisies from another section of the back yard, where they'll be joined with some Mexican and Jerusalem sage and other ornamental herbs and a few flowers. That's the plan, but it could get scrapped or changed like so many of my schemes and best laid plans that as Robert Burns wrote, "gang aft agley."
In homage both to gardening through the seasons, and to a relationship that has endured and flourished for forty four years, I'll leave you with Burns' poem/song, Bonie Bell. It seems appropriate, both for its recognition of the changing seasons and the constancy of love.
The smiling spring comes in rejoicing, And surly winter grimly flies; Now crystal clear are the falling waters, And bonny blue are the sunny skies. Fresh o'er the mountains breaks forth the morning, The ev'ning gilds the Ocean's swell; All Creatures joy in the sun's returning, And I rejoice in my Bonie Bell. The flowery Spring leads sunny Summer, The yellow Autumn presses near, Then in his turn comes gloomy Winter, Till smiling Spring again appear. Thus seasons dancing, life advancing, Old Time and Nature their changes tell; But never ranging, still unchanging, I adore my Bonie Bell.