p & p

oh my ... the peonies are in bloom

We love peonies here at the terracotta gardens of Black Street.

I have quite successfully divided and transplanted bits from my few original peonies (something the gardening books often tsk, tsk attempting) and now we have thriving peonies, in three colours, all over the place. Short lived but tres spectacular in colour, form (those packed layers of petals gradually unfurling from their tight ball shaped bud into a wild rose like bloom as big as your open hand) and fragrance - one of the delicious scents that says - hey ! it must be summer.

The cowboy has so pimped, my grass cutting, ride.

Uh Huh ! La Beast Rouge has a new look and brand a new 'tude. She's all scruffy and raggedy looking, he's stripped her down to the bare necessities, she's no longer shiny red from her oh so occasional usage, and after spending a day in the cowboy's workshop she's returned a much different machine. No longer the persnickety maybe I'll start, maybe I won't mower which drove me to near insanity. And she was a cared for lawnmower that I religiously took in, each Spring, to various small engine/mower repair shops for a her yearly tune up & sharpening - OK girlfriend come on let's do some mowin'. She more often than not declined these requests. Sigh. If you remember I sometimes found if I dragged her out of the shed and allowed her to bask in warm sunshine for awhile - she might decide to start (emphasis on sometimes). But it was always very hit or miss ... mostly miss.

I realize now that most of my intense aversion to mowing was working with a machine that was so completely unreliable. Worrying all the time that if I had to stop for any reason, my zooming around with her, she might decide to not start up again. Standing in front of this old brick house yanking on that !?%&!! rip cord, over and over again like an idiot, with nary a sputter ... only to eventually just say !!?%&$ and lie down in the needing to be mowed grass dreaming & waiting for my Prince with a pick up truck to arrive.

And arrive he did ... Yes Pam (your comment yesterday so bang on) that darn mower is now tame, capable, and starts with a gusto never before seen and at the very first pull of the cord - it's life changing I tell ya. I think maybe La B. Rouge has a wee crush on the cowboy ... not that I could blame her. Wink.