Phoebe is 26! News from Home (and Abroad)

Dear Phoebe,

I thought you should know the important news from Indigo Hill. Through the magic of FaceTime, I happen to know that at this very moment you are stretched out on a beach on La Gomera beside your beloved, Oscar. And I know there's no place in the world you'd rather be, and that makes my heart happy. 

However, you should know that the liatris is conspiring with the butterfly weed to incite a riot of color.

And farther up the meadow, there is a gray-headed coneflower insurrection going on in the New England aster patch. Two years ago I scattered some seed (it didn't seem like too much at the time) from my Wisconsin prairie friend Laurie, and now LOOK at what it's done!

As long as the purple asters come through in the fall, I will breathe easy. But this seems a bit excessive. Do you think I should be worried?

Also. I took a look at the yard and decided the birches, beaten down by ice storms two winters ago, were a bit much. So I spent a good half day with my chainsaw, whose original blade is so dull it spews fine sawdust all over me. Time to break out the spare.

Don't worry. I didn't fall off the ladder. That's not why I'm writing.

It's just to tell you that every once in awhile you have to take a look at your yard and decide what to do about it. Trees grow over and lean and bend, and sometimes they need to be brought back into line.

You'll know this once you've had a yard with trees in it for more than a couple years.

Sometimes you have to let the light in. I've taken off half of the birch to the left

and one whole trunk to the right

and nobody would notice it but me and the Stewartia tree, which had 40 blossoms on it this June. 

We notice the light and air and visibility, and we are grateful for that dull chainsaw.

After this I tackled  the giant prune hedge and fought it and its thorns away from the garden again. Liam helped. Awful job, no photos.

In prettier news, the crape myrtle is the biggest it's ever been. Even though it stayed in the single digits for about a week of nights in January, it didn't die back! So I had to tie it up when its blossoms got laden with rain. It's been the MOST beautiful, lush, well-watered summer I can remember. Not too much. Just right. 

That silly crape myrtle is my little piece of Richmond, brought to Ohio. Curtis gives a sniff to the drainpipe in the patio bed every time he passes by. There might be a chipmunk in there.

    

We leave the lawn chairs set up by the evening primroses, because we're out there every single night, winding down, watching them. I'm going to gather their seed this fall, and sell it this winter, as this plant seems to be hard to come by. I got my plants from Elsa, as you know. The best kind of heirloom. Anyway, they're more beautiful this year than they've ever been. They've had plenty of water, and we groom the old flowers off them every evening. You'd be proud of us.

I realize that this deeply bucolic and virtually news-free letter from home may be of interest only to someone who cares about flowers and trees as much as your mother does (that would be you!)

 I'm sending it out as a reminder of what's happening here.  Your life is also full of flowers, especially today!

For once, you get to be with your true love on your birthday, and what could be better than that? He's taking such tender care of you!

I took these screenshots as we chatted this morning (afternoon for you). You and Oscar were headed to the beach! I can't imagine. We're at least 8 hours from a coast. 

You told me about how much Aráfo has matured

that he's not nearly as much of a pain as he used to be. That's good. He is such a sweet, cute gentleman.

and he has eye makeup that makes him look worried all the time. I don't think he worries much.

I can't tell you what joy you and Oscar bring me, in those too-short weeks you get to be together. Just look at my tiny face in the lower right corner! About splitting with a grin.

Don't you think it's time Oscar came to America?

For good?

I certainly do. I know, it'll probably take a year to get all the clearance, a visa and a green card, but you two have started pushing the boulder up the hill, and I couldn't be prouder of you.

Anyway, honey, there's a little pile of presents waiting for you when you come home, and I wrapped them yesterday so at least they'd be ready on your birthday. Even though you've still got some time with Oscar on La Gomera, that basalt rock way out there in the Atlantic Ocean.

Speaking of rocks...that castle out there on the sea-carved point off Bilbao, España, is some setting

for the best birthday present of them all: a life spent with your Oscar Bello Goya. 

Any time I want to remember what love looks like, I have only to look at you and Oscar. 

Thank you for that. Some birthday you're having! 

Love you and Oscar so much,

Mai