Yesterday was so unbelievably beautiful that we spent almost every minute outside. I finally liberated my spring bulbs from the dry overgrowth that I allow to stay every winter. Laden with snow, the butterfly bushes, which grow to the size of small trees, look magical, and the tangle of Russian Sage appears silvery and delicate on dull, grey mornings. The birds love hiding places and seed heads, and besides, I'm always sick of tending to the garden in the fall.
But it was quintessential spring yesterday, and the poor crocus felt a little sickly and the tulips and daffs were a bit grumpy and felt taken for granted, so I wielded my pruners and liberated them.
The purple crocus, which had been pinched and wizened, found the sun. It threw back its petals and gave a wolf cry from deep within its golden throat. When I stepped back outside after a little break, this is what I found:
I'll give a quick photo tour of the other highlights of our day. . .
. . .My good luck charms--two of them, anyway.
My friend Michelle came for the Irish feast adequately prepared. I give you, the sushi 'o the Irish:
My mother, another lucky charm, peeling the tatties.
My classy tribute to St. Patrick's day (I also tried my feet at a jig):
And a special visit from Kerry O'Malley, who brought us good luck out the wazoo.
Hope your St. Patty's was just as delightful. Happy Friday, all.
