Gaze Upon A Meadow

There is a great disturbance in the equilibrium. It started Monday morning at 6:30 am with some horrendous motorized mechanical noise headed straight towards my house. I thought a plane was about to crash. No, it was the tree trimmers warming up their chipper just down the road.

They have been chopping and dropping all around me as close as they can get without me having a fit. My poor neighbor across the byway. They get a D- for cleanup.

Stare into a blooming meadow. Ohmm. It is safe until November.

I was already unsettled headed to work Monday morning when I was stopped on the byway by a motorcycle/car collision. It was a side swipe crash. Somebody hogged the center line on sharp curve. Not only were the tree trimmers too close for comfort, I had learned over the weekend that a wonderful human being and old friend from my formative years as an adult was in hospice and about to leave due to cancer. Such sad news.

Ohmm. Look into the blooming meadow.

Yesterday the tree trimmers had chopped across the byway where the utility line exits the sunny utility meadow on the neighbors side. They get a C- for cleanup and were forced into that because they couldn't block the highway.

Today I came home and they had chopped up Bulbarella's driveway. Oh crap, crap, crap. Now I have to clean and fluff all this before the open garden day on Saturday. They get a B- for cleanup there. Despite its wild character, it is a private driveway and the freshly mowed paths they used to toss the rubbish from must have indicated the notion of garden. Still, it was a half assed B-. My maintenance gardener self was not pleased.

Gaze upon a meadow. Ohmm.

There are other helpful things that can be done when stressed other than just staring into space. A package arrived in the mail on Monday. I may have ordered some Louisiana Iris, in particular Clyde Redmond. The Black Widow slipped into the order and I got a bonus Tchoupitoulas.
CHOP-ah-too-lus,
CHOP-ah-too-luh.
SHOP-ah-too-liss.
CHAP-ah-too-luh.
Take your pick of pronunciation.

So I tucked my new iris into the meadow.

The bonus Chop-a-tulip also found a home. I really had no idea where any of them were going when I ordered them. You know how that goes.

If the Loisiana Iris "Black Gamecock' is any indication, the new iris should like it here just fine. They were grown in New York so my cold will feel just fine.

The rotten log iris department was already full with Japanese, Louisiana, the Black bearded iris divisions and a crinum. This may need to be rethought. The log is almost gone and I don't need a line of iris in the middle of the Great Lawn. I just might be forced into making a proper bed for them.

While I was grumbling at dinner about the mess the tree trimmers left, Bulbarella was telling me she had not been able to reach her boyfriend for two days and was concerned about his welfare.

Ohmm.

She had been calling every few hours and no one answered and the machine was off. She called one more time after dinner. Ok. Let's go check on your boyfriend.

Gaze upon a blooming meadow.

Oh dear Lord. The man was mowing his lawn and fell off a seven foot high wall on to the driveway below. He broke ribs, a collar bone, maybe some vertebrae and was flown to a hospital in Johnson City, Tennessee. Oh dear Lord. Bulbarella's boyfriend is broken.

Ohmmm.

Those tree trimmers better not come anywhere near me until November now that everything around us is done. It could be dangerous.