Their choice..

It is a windy November morning. The wind carries a chill, but it is relatively warm outside and my Grampa's sweater is all I need for warmth. After D.J. built cement ramps to stalls 1 and 2, I put both horses in paddock 3 to give the cement time to solidify. There is only one stall, but it is huge, so I hoped they would share. I think they are, but we had rain last night and both horses are wet- so I guess their choice. I let the sheep out into the poultry yard- ever hopeful they will stay. They did not. D-lo goes first, followed by Evelyn and Eli and Everest. Dancer and Eleanor currently don't jump out, so trot around frantically baaahing they are being left out of the marauding. The jumpers then began running back and forth around the yard and the gardens, through the orchard, over the drive to the patios and back like the hounds of hell were on their wool. Since there is nothing chasing them, I am content to let them run- their choice. But, must keep an eye on them, because once the play is over they get down to the real work of defoliating all things flora. So, I attack the iris beds. My Mom clipped back the iris in the Anniversary Garden in October, but I haven't gotten to the iris in the border garden yet, and it is time, before they're buried in snow. I have mobile iris. Not "walking iris", just iris that moves around alot. Well, for iris anyway. Two years ago I had iris borers. Nasty little buggers. So, sister Stephanie was here visiting, and attacked the job with me of digging up all iris. We then soaked them in buckets of dilute bleach, then I dried the corms in the sun. I replanted the iris in the border garden and did my least favorite thing to the areas in the Anniversary Garden where they had been invaded- I spread toxic iris borer killing poison. Ugh. I did that! I must have been really irritated with the iris borers. The iris are pretty special. See, about 12 years ago, my Mom hosted an iris bed for the World Association of Iris Obsessed Flower Children (okay, that's not it, but these folks are serious about their iris). She had to have a special set of beds dug, with specific size, soil, etc. She had to sign a contract that she would not take ANY iris from the beds, care for them a certain way, keep careful, meticulous records of bloom time, bloom tenancy, color, shape,etc. She would do this for two years. Then, she would host an army of international members of the WAIOFC for tea and refreshments in her iris beds daily for weeks. This is so they could see all the amazing new varieties of iris. And, they were, are, beautiful. And, yes, my Mom is a bit crazy to have said "Sure, I'll do that". (I'm so my Mother's daughter). The excellent thing is just before the vultures from the WAIOFC descended on the iris beds to pluck them clear of any speck of corm, they told my Mom she could choose some favorites! It just so happened that my parents would soon be moving, so she gave some iris to me, some to my sisters, and took some for herself, not wanting all the eggs in one basket. These are the iris she entrusted to my garden. Only, it was my garden in the Big City. Because that was before we found Cowfeathers. So, they grew there first, then moved here. Then moved beds again because of the borers. Moving iris-see? Not their choice.

The Iris when they lived in the Anniversary Garden.

So, I clipped them back this morning, filling most of a garbage can with the clippings (NOT to go into the compost remember!) By then the marauding jumper sheep had become bored and were divesting the Korean Spice Viburnum of every reachable leaf. Back to the barns with you Bad Sheep! Also, not their choice, but since I bribed them with cracked corn, maybe kind of they wanted to go in.

Beautiful Eleanor, photo courtesy of Eileen Nixon Photography.