I think May is my favorite month. Well, May and October. They’re like bookends to the warmer and colder seasons. Mild weather. Pleasantness.
May appeals also because my grass always looks its best during this month. After June hits, it all goes downhill. The lushness seems to fade and the weeds start running the show. What’s up with that? July, I can see. That’s a wicked-hot month. And we don’t water because we’re, you know, like that. So the grass pays the price. But why can’t it retain its glory through the month of June too. So I don’t look around my yard in disgust and feel so helpless.
The grass and the flowers, of course. It’s planting time! The kiddo and I picked up a bunch of flowers yesterday. He loves to help. When he was two I carted him through the garden center with me and he very determinedly made his opinions known about which plants we should get. My mom scoffed at me for letting a toddler choose my plantings. But you know what? It worked. He has pretty good taste, my boy. I had to poo-poo a couple based on growing conditions or height, but he really rocked the plant-picking. So we have a bevy of plants on our deck to be placed in the ground. I can assure you that I’ll be doing most of that work, though. As eagerly as he is to art direct, he’s not that into the production work, if you know what I mean. Just ask my sore quads after plopping a flat of violas in the ground, solo, when the squirt decided helping for 10 minutes was just enough.