Garden check-up - June 27, 2020

Yesterday was Nanny's birthday.  We didn't have a party or a family get-together.  Nanny is scheduled for some surgery in a few days and is trying to stay virus-free so that the surgery doesn't get put off.  When we go down to check on her, we visit on the back porch, keeping our distance. 

The Husband decided that we should get her a re-blooming hydrangea for her birthday.  She planted one on the left-hand side of her front porch steps, and mentioned wanting a second one for the right-hand side.  We found one at the greenhouse and The Husband planted it for her.  It was a bit of trouble, for there was a gnarly old boxwood growing on the right-hand side of the steps, and she wanted it gone.  The Husband went to the garden shed and came back with a shovel and an ax.  Digging up the boxwood looked like a lot of work to me, so I went to the garden.  ;)

The day after my sister told me she'd found Japanese beetles on her rose bushes, I found Japanese beetles on mine.  And my hibiscus.  Because those beetles attacked my vegetable garden one year (they seemed fixated on the green beans), I have been monitoring the garden every day.  So far, I haven't seen any in the garden.  Now that I've said that, they'll probably attack with a vengeance. 

The garden continues to do well.  We've picked squash twice this week and will need to pick again in a day or two.  The green beans are about to start producing.  The cucumbers are blooming their heads off and should be producing soon.  The biggest, oldest tomatoes look like they might be thinking about ripening.  I would love some fried green tomatoes, but we never cook any until we've eaten the first ripe one.  A few of the tomato seeds that I planted about a week ago have sprouted. 

I spent about an hour pulling grass and examining the plants for bugs.  When I saw Nanny and Thus Husband chilling on the back porch, I made my way across the garden to join them.  About 10 days ago, when I planted the new tomatoes, I stuck one lonesome zucchini plant in a skip in the okra row, and I looked for it as I was leaving the garden.  It was about 6" tall when I planted it.  I couldn't find it!  The Husband had weeded the okra row last weekend, and I was about to accuse him of chopping down the zucchini when I finally located the zucchini.  It had grown at least a foot, had filled in the gap, and was about the same height as the okra. 

When we came back home, we spent the afternoon practicing our instruments.  The Husband has turned into a pretty good ukulele player.  I am struggling to learn to play the mandolin.  We rarely practice together because our skill levels are so far apart.

However, we must begin practicing together, for we have a specific mission to accomplish; we must learn to play "I'll Fly Away" well enough to play at my boss's funeral. 

No, she hasn't died, isn't even sick.  But she has made a request.

In the 25+ years that I have worked with Martha, we have been through many joys and sorrows.  Our children were in elementary school in 1994 when she hired me.  We've been through graduations, empty nests, weddings, births of grandchildren.  She lost her husband 10 years ago, a blow that about brought her to her knees.  Since then, we've both lost both of our parents.  These things take a toll on a person.  Our office chit-chat can get pretty morbid at times.

A couple of months ago, as we were sitting around, shooting the breeze, we somehow turned to the subject of funeral music.  She said that she did not want a traditional funeral with sad, piped-in music.  I flippantly said, "[The Husband] and I will play "I'll Fly Away" for you."  Her eyes lit up, and she said, "DO IT!"  I started back-pedaling immediately, but she pressed forward with the idea.  I reminded her that, considering the life-spans of her parents (her father lived to 100, her mother to 93), she will probably out-live me.

As badly as I play, she'd better live for a long, long time if she doesn't want to be embarrassed by me at her funeral.  ;)