Rudbeckia - April 2, 2026

My sister, my niece, and I share a running three-way text   The topic is mostly gardening-related.  For example, all of us intend to cut back our garden phlox when they are about yay-high, but we always forget about it until they're about ready to bloom, so we skip it.  Yesterday, I took my clippers on my afternoon walk-about and lit into my phlox - not all of them, just the ones in front.  (I'm shooting for a layered effect.)  Remarkably, I also remembered to text the others that I did it so that they would be reminded to prune theirs.

If their phlox don't get cut back this year, it ain't my fault.  😉

Today's exchange included plant offerings.  Sister has phlox to share (I declined), niece has rudbeckia.  I spoke up for the rudbeckia and picked it up on my way back from the grocery store.

Niece works hard on her yard, and it shows.  

I planted the rudbeckia the minute I finished putting the groceries away.  Put some in the "new" sunny bed, started last year when the tree collapsed and let it some light; some went at the edge of the phlox bed. There is no telling how many times I've bought and planted rudbeckia.  Not one has ever come back or made babies, that I know of (I could've pulled them up, thinking they were weeds).  Niece's rudbeckia has come back bigger and stronger than last year.  Maybe this variety can survive here.

When it was time to water the new plants, I decided to hook up the water hoses.  Last year, I made an effort to rig up enough hoses to water everything that needs watering.  Bought new hoses, and a double-barrel diverter.  The hoses where right where we'd left them last fall, still attached to the diverter.  When I finally got everything connected and turned the water on, it blew a piece off the diverter, and water spewed all over me.  I said some nasty words and turned the water off.  

I was about to get a watering can when I realized that it was sprinkling rain.  It's raining slowly now.  Looks like Mother Nature might take care of the plants today.

Wednesday, April 1, 2026

The back porch is a fine place to be this morning.  The temperature is perfect, the sun is shining, the birds are singing.  Around sunrise, I heard turkeys gobbling in the bottom behind the house.  

About the time I heard the turkeys, I heard some thrashing around in the leaves at the edge of the gulley.  I got up to look.  The light was so dim I couldn't see very well, but I believe it was Jose, the armadillo.

Jose can thank his lucky stars for my intervention a couple of weeks ago.  The Grandson came hurrying into the house and said he'd just seen the armadillo in the yard, and he asked if he could use the shotgun to off it.  I said, "Well, let's think this through."

It was 8 p.m.  The neighbors are accustomed to hearing gunfire after dark, but only after hearing distant hounds bray in pursuit of a raccoon (at which point some will think, Got 'im!).  Nanny would be dialing our number within seconds of a blast from our yard.

"Plus," I said, "I'm not sure I want Jose offed."  I told him about the fire ant nest built last summer against a stump at the edge of the yard, just down the hill from the shed under which the armadillo resides.  The day after I discovered the nest, I discovered that something had dug into it.  I poked it with a stick and didn't see ants boil out of it and concluded that Jose must've had a midnight snack.  I applauded his work.  I had intended to poison the ants but hated to do it because the stump is just up the hill from the pond where the frogs, turtles, and snakes live.

"So maybe we need to let him hang around.  I'd rather have holes than fire ants in the yard and poison in the pond."  

The Grandson whole-heartedly agreed.  Jose lives on.

But I digress.

After such a pleasant early morning, things went downhill when I tried to pay a bill electronically.  This happens EVERY MONTH, and it is NOT ME; it's the outfit's janky web site.  I'm waiting on a voice call to straighten this out.  

While waiting on that call, I accomplished a "round tuit" task.  The Husband and I have agreed that we need to replace our bathroom tub with a big shower that will accommodate old persons with physical or mental issues.  We're not there yet, but it's coming one day.  There are a million things we'd rather do than live through a renovation, and so we haven't been exactly diligent in pursuit of someone to do the work.  Today, I finally called somebody to come give us an estimate.

Go, me.  

I had planned to go to the grocery store today, and maybe scope out the garden center, but I may have talked myself out of it.  

Might make jewelry, instead.  

I got the info for the local farmers market and fall festival.  I'll have to be deciding soon whether to go for it.  As of today, my inventory is such that if I sold every single piece on display, I might make enough to pay for one hobby store trip.  Better get crackin'.