Marigolds and more

Didn't I tell you? The inevitability of Mitt Romney? But nope, haven't been watching the big convention; just reading about it sometimes.

What the heck was up with that Clint Eastwood guy? Remind me, if I get to be 82 and inclined to converse at length with empty chairs, not to accept invitations to address national political conventions. 

Family values? Old Clint is enthusiastically heterosexual after all --- at least seven children by five women, give or take an abortion of so, two of whom he married. Ya think?

Actually, I was thinking warm thoughts about a Republican Thursday morning, the late Everett Dirksen (1896-1969; at left with LBJ), senator from the great state of Illinois, who was excessively fond of the common marigold, as am I. Anybody else remember his light-hearted campaign to have the marigold declared our national flower?

It was my morning to water the flowers at the museum --- head gardener Kay has taken some time off and Meg is somewhere in a canoe, so Robin and I are taking turns.

This year's plantings represent hours of work --- and imagination --- by Kay, with assists from Robin, Meg and Sarah, plus a great deal of water poured on regularly during this season of drought.

Which reminds me that I need to replace this morning a length of hose that's sprung a major leak. No point in having all that water flowing down the driveway.

For the most part it's a mix of familiar garden flowers --- zinnias, marigolds, cannas and more. The new herb garden's looking good, too, and the replanted and reconfigured iris border along the south side of the Stephens House will, too, in its season. Now if we can just keep all of this going until Kay gets back.