Mother's Day and Creeping Clocks

Happy Mother's Day to all who mother. It is sunny, windy and cold here in Nebraska. The windchill is thirty degrees. An old-wives tale says not to plant garden before May 15th.

Spring is showing off its colors. A profusion of fuchsia flowers explodes from the neighbor's redbud tree. Beside our front door our flowering crab is covered in white blooms sweet-scenting each inhale.

A couple of weeks ago we opened windows for the first time this year and heard cries for mulch from neglected landscaping. I moaned; inside work wasn't done. To do a "bag count," I had "to walk" the yard. Pre-school Aja saw me and came to help. I said it could be 100. She said, "I can do it." There isn't anything she thinks she can't do. After Simons' Lawn Service power-raked, she stomped over, "Did you know somebody was mowing your yard? Why didn't you ask me? I would have done it."

Menard's had a cypress mulch sale. I loaded my 4-door buick several times. Forty-two was the most a yard-man loaded and didn't obstruct a mirror. Great job. My car smelled like a Florida swamp.

For a minimum of handling, I unloaded the bags where I wanted them placed. To my surprise the neighbors offered to help. One took a small shovel to remove the weeds. I ripped the bags and the other one spread it -- twenty-eight bags worth. Their parents were shocked. You see, Aja is four and Ryker is six. What great neighbors.

Landscaped plants happily "tucked in," I am back working in the house with occasional weeding visits to the yard. Tomatoes won't be planted until next weekend. When we had a warm spell I shopped to update my phlox garden. The clerk frowned and said, "Creeping clocks?"

I looked at my creeping clocks garden and saw, you guessed it, a clock. It is completely surrounded by lavender phlox close to the ground. From 12 to 2 a shrub obstructs lunch and nap time. However, I think I'll get rid of the shrub; winter split it from a ball to a bowl.
The daffodils at 4 did their bit and have stepped back. 5 has an unusual gift that doesn't show up every year. I love its name: fritalari aliagris (phonetic spelling). Tickles the tongue, doesn't it. One to two-inch tulip-shaped checkerboard flowers hang from a short stem. This year the checks were maroon and cream.
Tulips and daffodils do their thing at 10. A pair of deep pink and one yellow tulip stand guard over break time. Large rocks and pebbles hold down the center. A few wild purple violets have popped up here and there painting happy reminders of childhood May baskets.

To Mother's everywhere: May you find the joy in little things; May you know your place is important in the larger scheme of life. God Bless.

2008 Red Convertible Travel Series