Pink, Frilly Echinacea!

How perfectly ... well, perfect. What more could we conceivably ask for? Two telephone calls in less than a week, one from Barcelona, the other from Lourdes. Just to keep in touch. To let us know. How wonderfully thoughtful. He told us about his week in Genoa, the mountains he climbed, what he saw there, and his impressions. And after a month away in Spain, Italy and France, he will be returning home. And our granddaughter, her class valedictorian, was hugely praised at the commencement ceremonies - grade eight to high school. We can hardly believe so much time has elapsed.

Our daily walk in the ravine, always itself its own reward, gave us further reward when we were accosted several times during our daily jaunt by our favourite little squirrel, Stumpy. Thus named for the simple reason that instead of owning a long, sweeping furry tail he has but a stump of one. There is another little black squirrel in the ravine also tailless like Stumpy, but not as bold as he. There are some grey and some red squirrels whose bravery and recognition of our regular route as we drop off peanuts in various places, is noted, but not extraordinary.

For Stumpy tracks us, and approaches us, coming as close as he dares. He knows our voices. When we call, he often appears, although he could be just about anywhere in the ravined woods. He will occasionally accost us two or three times during the course of our hike, each time quite far from the place previous. He is a delightful little creature, brave and clever. He does not entirely surrender his need to ensure his safety but he cannot ever be certain he is not in imminent danger.

There are owls and hawks in the woods and he could be seen as prey. Let alone the many dogs who walk through with their humans, most of them willing and eager to chase squirrels. Our two little dogs are little different, other than for the fact that they know Stumpy and accept his calm presence. While he cannot let down his guard he will come to within five feet of us and stand alert before us, awaiting his peanut. Always a three-chamber peanut for Stumpy.

And then, in the afternoon, my husband suggested it would be interesting to go along to a local family-operated plant nursery, one we have been frequenting for many years. I was initially reluctant, even though he's heard me say frequently enough lately that I would like to have a few new perennials to fill in some garden spots. In that nursery, one of the area's largest, and certainly one of the best-stocked and best-cared for, I felt as though I was running amok with desire and greed.

Everything looked compellingly attractive, and we rummaged about here and there, expressing admiration for the varied and colourful perennials and annuals. Who even knew there were now annual galliardia? We now have annual blanket flower in our garden beds. And more asters and dahlias. And a new type of Hibiscus, hardy to our 5a growing zone. And a huge Astilbe, a new cultivar, with graceful foliage and a wonderful floral crop. And a new type of Echinacea, one with bright pink, frilly flower heads.

I managed to happily plant the annuals, didn't even bother changing out of my long skirt. Our garden soil is incredibly rich as a result of all the compost we've spread over the years, from our kitchen and garden waste. And the addition of a combination of bone- and blood-meal helped in the planting. Later, I snipped some sweet basil and oregano out of the herb garden, and we began to assemble a pizza, for our evening meal. A fragrant conclusion to a fantastic day.