Felt pretty spunky today so I went for a trot around the block and involved myself in the activities at the store; there is still a huge stack of (hopefully) junk mail that has accumulated over the last two months. Bottom line, however: rather overdid the whole thing and am looking forward to an early trip to bed . . . Irises are ablaze all over the city. These were my mom's favorite flowers and our friend Michelle Hollis would certainly have agreed with her . . . Back in my youth the women called them Flags, and I think they now bloom earlier than they used to. (Bob does not agree, however.) I can remember mom selecting various colored blooms from her collection, plunging them into a bucket of water and then trotting the length of the cemetery to decorate family graves for Memorial Day . . . During the year mom and her friends would exchange rhizomes (sp?) to increase their color groupings . . . My grandparents lived next door to a minister whose wife collected wildflowers. I was stunned one day to be hiking in the depths of the forest and I came across a huge iris in bloom. I ran home to proclaim my discovery and the wife admitted that she had put the plant there. She didn't think that God would mind her borrowing a plant for her garden if she replaced it in His with one of her own. For the next couple of years when we went hiking we would come across a clump of iris and realize that they were a replacement for a plant that had been harvested for our neighbor's garden . . .
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