Fathers Day, and June in the Garden

Happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there. Teach your children young to love gardens - my dad did

I remember many happy hours in the garden with my dad. Well, there was the time when I was four and we were burning some brush and my hair caught on fire and dad picked me up and dunked me in our little pool, almost drowning me, but we won't count that. Most of my memories of gardening with my dad ( and my mom) are very precious.

Before I share my June garden pics, I want to share a poem I wrote for my dad about 1992. My grandmother started to have little mini-strokes the summer of 1978 and she knew her time was short. so she bundled up the quilt she had been making for me, (hand-stitched of course) with all the rest of the pieces, gave it to her neighbor, and told her to give it to Don for Robin when he comes out for my funeral. Grandma always thought more of everyone around her then she did of herself. The quilt was a grandmothers flower garden, one her sister had started to cut the pieces out for in 1941 but didn't finish because she passed on. I still have to finish it; there were not enough of the 1941 fabric to finish it and I look in every antiuqe store I go to for similar fabrics - someday I will finish and give it to my granddaughter. The first time I saw it, the thought went through my mind that loving hands made these stitches. That thought stayed with me for many years, and when my dad was going through a tough time, and my daughter was trying to comfort him; well, it came out as a poem. I think you get bonus points if you make your dad cry. Here's the poem:

Loving hands made these stitches
Cooked my meals, warmed my britches
Untiring feet never stood still
Working hard from morning until
Night; then paused with a grateful heart
For we were together and not apart
That we had our daily bread-
For times were rough, people said.

Patient eyes saw my dreams
Cried tears I couldn't when my schemes
Fell through; then with words of wisdom
Just a few,
Would quietly touch my heart anew:
Life is tough - you have to be strong,
For the road is hard and sometimes long,
Cherish the good times, accept the bad
And try very hard not to be sad

How I long now for just a word from you
To give me strength to begin anew
A slice of your courage
A measure of your faith
Then my grandchild pats me on the knee,
"Grandpa, do you know what mom tells me?
Life is tough, I have to be strong
It's not always fair, and there are many wrongs,
But I should be glad for the good times
And accept the bad
And try very hard not to be sad-
Grandpa, did your Mom ever talk like that?"
I smile and give her head a pat.

Words of courage, echoes of the past
Trickle down the years that go by so fast
Mom, give me the strength to be
to my family what you were to me
Help me pass on all that you taught
That your goodness will not be forgot
And when the race is done
And I'm at the finish line
I know I'll look into your eyes and hear
"Son, you did just fine"

(Robin Hansen Buchholz)

Happy Fathers Day Dad - here is how my garden is doing...

Mortgage Lifter blossoms - they are huge!

Tomatoes are doing great ! Lots of blossoms!

Beans are at least 3-4 feet up the trellis - looking good

Calendula's (pot marigold) will bloom any day now

Peas are going wild - wonderful sweet taste, just starting to pick the sugar pods

Corn is doing well, but I need to put down another layer of straw. You can't see them from this angle, but the beans I planted among them are coming up also, still waiting for the squash.