If you don’t like puns, just leaf this alone

I’m not going to beat around the bush, I’m getting right to the root of the matter. If you don’t like puns, just act like a tree and leaf it alone. Turn off your computer and check back next week when this blooming idiot may have come back to her senses. But celebrating Father’s Day yesterday made me think of my dad. He was a very punny guy. So this is in memory of Ken Coogle – and apologies to the rest of you.

In this age of the virus I am so gladiolus for my garden. From morning glory to four o’clocks, I’m outside with my flowers. It helps make me less impatiens and reminds me not to be such a snapdragon. I just try to “Bee balm and carry on.”

This whole season has been such a caladium.

When my best bud, Black Eyed Susan came to see the garden, I aster what she was doing to stay sane. “Well, I’m quarantined with Sweet William and we’re doing more gardening,” was her sage advice. “It’s good medicine, almost like an ivy of happiness every dais-y.” I’d say she really rose to the occasion!

I’m not sure you would spend all day in my garden with me, but my dogwood. Actually, I have lots of company. Phlox of birds and insects enjoy it as well, though scorpion weed, spiderwort, and tickseed are not nearly as welcomed as turtle flower, cat-nip, monkey flower, and tiger lily.

Even so, when things get back to “normal” I’ll be so happy I maypop.

By this time you’re probably pine-ing away to be anywhere except here. Well, lucky you! Ring the bellflowers! I’m signing off, once and flor-al,

Hosta luego.