Tuesday, August 02, 2011

Glorious Daylilies

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

57° here on the mountain. The black clouds of an hour ago have passed and bright sunlight is encouraging me to get to the nursery. So much to do lately I have not been able to keep up with writing. Daylilies probably were best this past weekend as the lack of rain has dried the fields and slowed flower size some. Just the same the colors have been special and we have received nice comments from visitors.

I have been tracking customers for years and arrived at 10% of our customer base as arriving from Maine. This year those visitors are mostly absent but Canadians are coming in larger numbers. They cannot take plants back across the border but they always remember to say thanks for the opportunity to walk the fields. That's always nice!

I'm heading down to the nursery in minutes. Michelle G will arrive in a while to help deadhead daylilies, water, weed--whatever is on the morning agenda. She is a good worker and mellows out in the fields of color listening to music and swatting an occasional bug. I agree that on days that I remember my music, even the tedious jobs like weeding seem to melt into the day.

I just came in from checking the bee hive and there are many new bees but I am still concerned about the prospects for winter survival. If you have missed previous posts, the hive was two days old when the floods of late May completely flooded it over. I brought it back here to the house and have been caring for it since. Bees are incredible creatures and these are apparently growing a bigger population. I sure hope the electric fence surrounding them keeps the black bear out that I saw two mornings ago down past the mailbox.

I have to get going here. If you are out and about today, please stop by for a visit. Gail has some nice hydrangeas coming into bloom and there are some smaller ginkos and witch hazels at good prices. Trees and shrubs are worthy investments for your properties.

Writing from the mountain above Peacham Pond where three loons with noisy voices just flew over--en route for the reservoir.

George Africa
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