Readers of my newspaper might have noticed some significant changes, and while I was feeling somewhat negative about them over the last couple of weeks, I’ve decided that most of that came from a few individuals who weren’t comfortable with change, and particularly after a cordial lunch with our publisher, I’m feeling better about our situation.
I’ve been adding more and more global photojournalists to my social media friends list, and it’s nice to see them and their work on the web.
And of course, it’s June. To say that my garden grows well is an understatement, and no matter how fragile or stressful my work life can get, it offers a meaningful retreat.
Neither my neighbors the Nipps nor I have any peaches this year, thanks to a mid-April freeze. The cherries appear fine, however, and my efforts to cover the garden plants appear to have been completely successful.
Yesterday I found my first cucumber of the season, and brought it to my wife Abby. I broke it open for her and we both smelled it. “There’s nothing like that fresh smell,” she said with an unquenchable smile on her face.
Hawken the Irish Wolfhound is still at home on the long, slack leash. I only retract it to keep him out of the neighbor’s poison ivy. After we walk, he sits by the garden and watches me work.
I pulled up the last of the radishes, which yielded about 200. The lettuce is still plentiful. Abby’s summer squash will probably be the next garden item to pick in any numbers. My tomatoes and peppers are huge, but not ripe. And while I haven’t seen any fruit on them, the cantaloup vines seem healthy and have lots of blossoms.