September 29, 2016

The question of what to do an a day off was solved when the packing cartons from nurseries began to pile up. Turned into one of the great gardening days of my life. Weeding projects cleared out the front plots, and into the ground when two kind of flowering maple, five peonies, one exotic arisaema. Out of the ground came almost endless clumps of violet. It’s hard to think of violet as a weed, but when you see it closing ranks over every inch of clear ground . . .  and I’ve made the east sloop down to the woods a violet garden, so it’s not as if it is actual enmity. Then Antonio arrived top cut the grass and atomize the piles of weeds I had left lying around.
   
Much singing last night and this weekend. Too much, though one might say “no” and one doesn’t.
   
Apparent firm interest in publishing Peniel. Around that I shall tiptoe as one in a mine field.
   
Hung Elderflowers in the dining room, and it looks classy and elegant.