Petunias, Politics, and Puppies

 

Petunias, Politics, and Puppies:

 

Ponderings of the Last Week of Summer, 2016

 

by Alice Jane-Marie Massa

 

 

As Mother Nature turns the Midwest air cooler, blows some dry leaves off her precious trees, swipes minutes from each day to give to the night, reminds us of the seasonal changes to come–I have been pondering this hot summer of 2016.  What are the first three words that come into your mind about the summer that is speedily slipping away?  Petunias, politics, and puppies are the words that swam into my mind.  Thus, this Wordwalk blog post will touch on three different topics which I meld together.  (Even if you want to skip the politics part, I should let you know in advance that the politics portion of this essay is an unusual poem, followed by a little puppy talk.

 

Each summer, pink, lavender, purple, and/or white petunias graced our large front porch in Blanford, Indiana.  Although I have never planted petunias in my container gardens, the gentle, even floppy, petunias are such a part of the picture in my mind of our Hoosier home.  Along with these flared-skirted flowers, my mother planted a few different types of marigolds and sometimes reddish-orange geraniums.  Near the northeast corner of our fence grew the climbing sweet peas.  Midway along the east fence was a substantial patch of irises.  Down the once-upon-a-time alley that led to the old coal mine were “Seven-sister Roses” that grew in abundance before a raspberry bush.  Forming a mild divider between the large east lawn and the yard directly in front of our front porch were bushes of peonies.  (In the 1950s and 1960s, all of my aunts and many others in our small community had peonies–a flouncy, picturesque bunch of blossoms.  Before the final addition to our house, lilies-of-the-valley clung pertly to the east side of our house.  How I did love these little, bell-shaped flowers!  Before the shanty was torn down, hollyhocks decorated its east side.  To the west of the white-rock driveway was my circular flower garden, primarily of gladioli, along with some daffodils.  When our wooden front porch was removed for the new and even bigger cement front porch (in 1957), my dad transplanted the spirea from in front of the porch to the north border of our yard that was west of the driveway.  In later years, I transplanted wild violets around the old pump at the southwest corner of our Hoosier home.  Other than the bees that frequented the dandelions, I had no objection to these little gold blossoms that gave color to our green grass–real green grass, not the roll-out variety of grass that covers so many lawns today.

 

While living at my current residence, I have found the joy of container gardening.  For a number of years, pink and white geraniums have been my favorite flowers to nurture in my containers.  However, this year has been the absolute best year for Gerbera daisies.  Too often, I have had blooms on Gerberas only twice or three times during the season although the leaves make pretty plants through early autumn.  On the other hand, this year, my Gerbera daisies have bloomed continuously:  I have had three to five blooms at a time, per container.  While the first pink and yellow blooms were single-petaled, later blooms have been double-petaled.

 

Since we always had a rosemary plant near the well on the east side of our Blanford home and most of my relatives had rosemary plants to spice up their cooking, I continue with this traditional rosemary plant which, of course, has a marvelous fragrance.  Once again, I have two basil “trees”:  I use the word “trees” because I enjoy growing tall basil plants from the wee ones.  Unfortunately, this year has not been a good year for my basil plants in the wind.  The basil tree in the back of my townhouse has fallen over seven times–thanks to the high wind gusts; the basil tree on my front porch has a score of only six falls.  Amazingly, these basil plants persist–despite a lost limb or two.  My lovely purple sage plant gracefully grows and must wonder why the basil keeps making a nose-dive in the wind.  Well, larger containers are in the plans for next summer’s basil trees.  I find nothing more calming than working in my container garden.  Although I always try to maintain my geraniums until about Thanksgiving, as Mother Nature grabs summer away from us Midwesterners, I will too soon miss fussing over my container garden.

 

Speaking of fussing, the political scene has certainly been a part of this summer of 2016 and will persist throughout Mother Nature’s fall.  Considering this most unusual political cycle, I share with you the following very short poem.

 

 

P Is for Pickle

 

by Alice Jane-Marie Massa

 

 

P is for …

 

politics,

promises,

pirouette,

platform,

podium,

passion,

patriotism,

poignant,

pinnacle,

pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey–or elephant,

pickle!

Politickle, polipickle

pending, pending–not ending until November 8.

 

* * *

 

Putting aside the politics, I emphasize that the best and most memorable parts of my summer of 2016 were meeting my fourth Leader Dog, training successfully with Willow, welcoming her to her new home on June 24, wonderfully walking with her each day, and sharing one blessed summer with her.  From March 16 to June 7, I was dogless.  Being dogless is, for me, extremely hard and horrible.  Thus, I cannot fully express how grateful I am that I have enjoyed a Willow summer and look forward to many, many seasons with my amazing fourth Leader Dog.

 

Coincidentally, today was the grand opening of the Canine Development Center at Leader Dog School (Rochester, Michigan).  This magnificent new addition to Leader Dogs for the Blind is truly state-of-the-art as a kennel complex.  To read more about the Canine Development Center, see photos of this new facility, and watch a related video–please visit the website:

http://www.leaderdog.org

 

 

Happy last week of summer!

Alice and Leader Dog Willow

 

September 14, 2016, Wednesday

 

Advertisement