The Green B: Nothing Major to Report

I have a weekly phone conversation with my dad in which I secretly fret that I really have nothing of importance to report about the week that has passed or the week that is to come. What can I possibly say of value? What will keep him entertained on the other end of the line?

To be perfectly honest, those who know me well know that I likely could relate some story about a mishap that has occurred during the week. I'm notoriously accident-prone. As I type this, I'm still suffering while using the tip of my left index finger, which I nearly clipped off with my secateurs (you know, hand pruners) two weeks ago. The injury came at the end of 30 minutes of sharpening and lovingly cleaning this, my most necessary garden tool. For whatever reason, I thought I would ensure that no rough spots remained on the blade after my sharpening and cleaning efforts by rapidly squeezing the secateurs closed and listening for any grinding of metal. I can't tell you how the tip of my finger got in the way. I do have a vivid recollection of what happened once I realized that I had nearly severed the pad from the rest of my finger, but I shall spare you the details.

I could tell these stories to my dad, sure. But even those kinds of things, when they're a regular part of my existence, become a little mundane. And so it is with the garden this week.

I have, at present, no plant diseases to report. No bugs. No fungi attacking. No breathtaking buds or blooms. No incredible triumphs. No construction projects.

I just have a happy garden. And though the relative quiet of my garden could seem a little boring in the way of news, the simple fact that I'm not in the midst of some crisis or rapturous unfurling is strange and welcome news for me.

So I shall quietly leave you with a few photos of the past week and a wish that you all have a week with nothing major to report.