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The Siberian irises finally got planted Thursday (to the left of the red climber). The day lillies I planted in the climbing rose bed have come up. Both the red and pink climbing roses are blooming, as are all the “bush” roses.
The white roses are JF Kennedy roses.  The “rose lore” is on Mother’s Day, if your mother is still alive, you wear a red rose.  If your mother has passed, you wear a white one. White roses for remembrance.

The yard guys haven’t mowed yet, so the blue bonnets are still bonneting along.

The salvia has started blooming.  I can see by the weed between the edgers and the sidewalk, I really do need to get some Roundup.  I wonder if Roundup will kill these stupid “tree of paradise” seedlings that are all over everywhere.

In the front yard, the honeysuckles are blooming, and the yellow rose is all over buds.

Yesterday was windy and blustery with blowing dust.  I ate my last container of yogurt yesterday so I had to go grocery shopping.  I waited until after dark to go, but the wind was still up, strong and gusty.  While I was putting the groceries in the car, I could hear thunder, and as I was unloading the groceries into my Radio Flyer wagon (see below) to bring into the house, it started hailing.  Hard.  The hailstones were cracking against the cement like rifle shots, shattering on impact.  They looked about marble size as best as I could tell.  Thankfully, it didn’t hail for more than a couple of minutes.  We didn’t get much rain out of the storm cell, alas.  The little desk in the picture above is a bird’s eye maple escritoire.  It has a drop down writing surface.  I stash my purse inside it and the dish on top is where my keys live.   The front door is off to the left behind that little bit of green pony wall.  I have no steps up to my front door.  It sits right on grade, so it’s very easy to pull my wagon out into the carport, load it up, and pull it right into the kitchen to unload it.  I can usually unload the car in one trip.  Very handy.  I keep it there in my entryway since I don’t have a garage.  My “little red wagon” always makes me think of the nonsense rhyme,

Thirty days hath September
April, June and no wonder.
All the rest have peanut butter
Except my granny.
She has a little red wagon.