Happiness Is....Fugitive

That's an art reference.  Some painting pigments are fugitive.  Meaning they fade and disappear.

Friends have been fugitive.  Fading and then disappearing.  Memories.  Also fade and disappear. It's hard to remember things and then there are other memories I wish I could forget.  Forgive.

I went shopping at my former place of work. I wish I had been quick enough to take pictures of all the smiling faces that came to say hello--the college kids back at work for the summer.

I bought herbs and vegetables. Pepper plants that seemed so full of growing.  Even to having fruiting buds already promising peppers to any who stopped and looked.  And small herbal marigolds--Gems--to plant with the tomatoes.  Seven growing in one tight fiber pot.  I used a sharp knife to cut the root ball and then gently wiggled each stem free and set each into it's own pot of good soil.  Until it's time to plant in the garden.  Waiting on the Moon.

Another herb pot of borage to plant with the strawberries.  Again cutting the root ball and gently wiggling the stems apart.  Five plants. Borage tastes like cucumber.  The flowers a pretty blue.

I bought a dozen leeks.  Tall and dark green and strong.  Wondering if I want to blanch them--to have the white root as they grow all summer.

G spent yesterday cutting flat old boards into stakes.  To surround the front perennial bed which contains Hosta--deer food.   G says to me  "guess who was on the front lawn this morning?"  Deer. Probably got the "last call" message and came to eat.  The chicken wire will be fastened to the stakes today--after the daily dog walk.   This is what it's like living outside the Town on acres instead of lots.

Wild animals eating your flowers, critters setting up housekeeping in your attics or the engines of your cars. Deer-always. Raccoons.  Fishers.  Porcupines.  Wild Turkeys. Sometimes. And more squirrels than I have even seen in my life.  

I am going out to check the Hostas--They might also be fugitive.