Memorial Day memories and gardening
This is the first Memorial Day since our son Paul died in 1961 that I have not visited his gravesite in Restlawn Cemetery in Brazil. The Lynch homestead was just over the fence.
This year the trip could not be made to place the homegrown peonies and other tokens of my undying love on the graves of eight other of our relatives at rest there either.
I always spent time on my many walks through to visit the graves of veterans, neighbors old friends, former classmates and schoolmates and others who have touched my life over the years. Visiting gives me comfort. Sorrow never fades.
We focus now on Paul. He had another trip to the emergency room Friday night. He was experiencing labored breathing and other health-related problems. He is home but still not feeling well.
We enjoyed visits from family and friends today. Michael’s wife, Kayleigh, brought me two healthy rhubarb plants from Lowe’s to replace the two that I lost this spring. She also brought us cherry tomato plants. This is her first year to experience gardening. I know she will enjoy the above-ground vegetable garden in her spacious, well planned out backyard. I have less room in my yard but plants that are already in the ground are doing well. The new tree has not lost its purple leaves yet. So, that means it is still kicking. All concerned approve of my nursery selection.
The neighbor asked me if I knew anything about pruning trees. Then he asked me if I would prune a young tree that he has inside of his fenced-in back yard. He asked that I not make it look ugly. I thought about pruning that perfectly shaped three-year old and thought not. I told him it looked great. Allow it to grow and spread its wings. I settle that request without getting into trouble and kept the tree saw on the hook.
Paul’s collection of chainsaws and related equipment went to auction when we moved. Even the wood chipper and log splitter are gone. Who knows where the whittling knife is hiding. I have several evergreens and flowering shrubs to manage and mulch to spread.
Here it is, almost June and I am still pondering on and searching every nook and cranny for the best place to store that artificial Christmas tree. Recently, I purchased some prints of the artistry of Jean Francois Millet. One of nine prints is titled is “Farmer inserting a graft on a tree.” Now that task is something this old country girl could handle. I could draw from the other pictures of working peasants and make hay while the sun shines for me. But for tonight I’m headed for the cushy couch. It has been a long day for us.
I can be reached by phone at 317-286-7352 or drop me a line to 649 South Grant Street, Brownsburg, IN., 46112.