(Looking at the photo above makes me think surrounding the rain garden with daffodils would be pretty.)
The story behind my quasi obsession with flamingos is based in part on my dad. He was a chemist who at the end of his career landed at Foster Grant in Leominster, Massachusetts, the purported plastics capital of the world. Union Products, the manufacturer of plastic pink flamingos, was also located in Leominster. One day I got it into my head that I wanted some pink flamingos from the source, so I asked my dad to oblige. Three arrived in the mail shortly thereafter. Over the years, and with the help of my son and daughter-in-law, I have added to the collection.
Alas, I am one of those people who is not careful to take all my yard stuff in during the winter. Two of the original flamingos have lost their heads. I'm not one to be sentimental about my belongings, but I am a bit regretful about this little tragedy. The remaining flamingo will become an indoor ornament.
My cataract surgery was successful. I'm a little shocked at how bright everything is. Clio's eye surgery followed; her recovery is a bit more complicated, as she has to wear the "cone of shame". We both have eyedrops, which I administer four times a day.
I uncovered the strawberry plants a few days ago. It looks like they took a beating this past winter. I'm contemplating transplanting the survivors, from the raised bed into the ground proper. The garlic I planted with them seems to be okay, though.
The redbud at the back of the yard is trying to bloom. Too soon! Too soon! We may have a hard frost this week.
