You’ve probably been wondering why I haven’t used any French language in my posts until now. (Right?). Many eons ago I took French in college – nearly 2 year’s worth – and although I’ve forgotten most of it, the words for apples and potatoes still hangs around in my brain occupying valuable space that should be used for more important information.

Anyway, we got a few early “pommes” at the same time as we harvested our first “pommes de terre,” of the Yukon variety. If you’ve never harvested potatoes, you’re missing an experience like digging for treasure. It’s one of my favorite crops to harvest. The only hazards are 1.) unearthing a toad – happened to me once – and 2.) finding a potato that rotted underground. That makes me cringe just thinking about it.

The word “pomme” in French used to mean just “fruit,” not necessarily “apple.” So potatoes are more literally “earth fruit,” rather than “earth apples.” I’m just doing my bit to bring a little international flair into your lives. You can thank me the next time you’re at a party and you realize you can enliven the whole conversation with that tidbit.

At this point, you may be wishing I’d stayed with haiku. I’m still warming up to get back into my regular blog post stride. Things will get better.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning and throw it like a rotten potato as far away as possible.

The Painted Lady
Graces us with her presence.
The Dame of Gardens.

I’ll probably be done with haikus for awhile after today, but the big question is: will I delete this tomorrow? Stay tuned!

We said our “I do’s”
Thirty-five years ago now.
Enjoying the fruit. 😃

I’m probably NOT going to delete this in the morning.

One dozen petals
Minus one. Let’s just stop there –
It means “he loves me.”

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. Have a great weekend!

When butterflies die,
Their wings live on in glory.
Beauty must triumph.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning while thanking God for the beauty of butterfly wings.

Hay bales, sitting like
Giant chess pieces, waiting
to be moved: Checkmate!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Japanese beetles–
Playing hide and seek with me.
(But not very well.)

I’ll probably delete this in the morning after admitting that I’m still mad at Japanese beetles.

The summer sun sets;

The trees cover me with their

Shadowy blankets

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

I met a friend for a picnic lunch yesterday in sweet little Mantorville, a small town about halfway between us. We had our lunch by the riverside and then decided to stroll around town a bit. The county courthouse sits up on a hill overlooking the city, a handsome sentinel, indeed.

We walked on and came upon a delightful tableau for a Little Free Library – so inviting!

Note the dragon on the top and all the lovely quotes about reading going around the box. We felt an immediate kindred spirit with the owner of this house, which only deepened when we saw this in their back yard:

A rabbit tea party!

One rabbit said to the other,
“Would you care for a spot of tea?”
“Why yes,” the other exclaimed,
“And please, with sugar lumps, three!”

By this time, we were becoming convinced that we could just walk into the house and have a nice chat with our new best friend – we thought there was a good chance that she (he?) would have welcomed us warmly. But niggling doubts kept us from committing what might instead have been a horrifying social faux pas. Our new friend also had a bird cage set up as a planter. Martha Stewart, move over!

The house next door was a Greek Renovation project of some sort – I didn’t get a photo of the house, but the grounds were filled with beautiful displays of flowers.

My friend stopped in at a shop to get some coffee while I stayed outside to take more photos, enjoying the creativity of people who know how to take plain and simple things and make them beautiful.

We spent some time talking about the virus – hard to avoid that topic these days. We had strong and differing opinions about the governmental response to COVID and had a civil discussion with an exchange of ideas. Neither of us experienced a shift in our stances, but we both appreciated the importance of hearing what the other had to say. If you don’t know someone that you love on the other side of an issue, you’re missing something essential in the conversation.

It was a lovely, pleasant afternoon and we felt quite welcomed by Mantorville. We’ll meet here again.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. I’ll be busier than usual next week, so I might revert to the Haiku O’ Day format that I’ve used before during busy stretches.

I’ve been doing Important Research on this matter of echinacea tea (and now I’ve typed that word so many times I finally know how to spell it). I do this all for you, dear readers. The recipe I printed out indicated that it’s even better with fresh flowers. I decided to use the petals and leaves from two flowers, as well as a few mint leaves and a lemongrass leaf.

It’s a fairly uncomplicated process: boil water, throw in the stuff, simmer for 5 minutes and strain.

While I was waiting I took a photo of the denuded flowers because I didn’t want their beauty to go to waste.

I didn’t have the courage to try the tea unsweetened so I added about a tablespoon of sugar (no judgment, please).

The verdict: Fairly tasty tea, although it might be said that I could have picked just about anything and thrown it into boiling water and come up with the same verdict after adding a tablespoon of sugar to it. I never said that my Important Research was going to be conducted with scientific rigor. It didn’t seem particularly piney, but I could definitely taste the mint.

This has been a Tea Study conducted by lynniebeemuseoday. Let me know if you think there are other things growing in the yard that I should make into tea.

I’ll probably delete this in the good old a.m.

I’ve always thought these were tiger lilies. I liked this photo and thought I’d blather on a bit about why they’re called tiger lilies, etc. However, I learned my lesson after the “Daucus Carota” incident and decided to do a little internet snooping. Here’s what a tiger lily actually looks like (assuming there might be one or two of you that don’t know):

I was chagrined when I saw the photos, because we always get these coming up as volunteers in our yard and I’m not terribly fond of them (but it was handy for getting photos for this post). I brought them in as cut flowers once and found out that the pollen is not only prodigious, it makes a permanent stain on your clothing. Someone needs to tell the flower-naming people that tigers are striped, not spotted. Shouldn’t this be a leopard lily? That’s even got alliteration going for it.

I have to admit that they are rather striking.

The tiger saw the lily
That had taken his name
And thought it was silly –
Just spots all aflame

The leopard saw the lily
That had the tiger’s name.
“With those spots, it really
Should be my claim to fame!”

I’ll probably dilly this in the morning.