It’s been awhile since I’ve utter a man’s name under my breath over and over again, but local garden guru, Andrew May, and with apologies to his wife, had that dubious honor this past weekend. According to Mr. May, it was THE week we had to plunder our baskets and pinch, cut back, remove old growth, and in general, render my gorgeous baskets that my neighbors had complimented over and over, into puny replicas of themselves. In truth, mine might not have been done, except for the fact they had to come down last weekend so grandson and company could paint the house. Mission accomplished. The first thumbnail shows some of the aftermath which went into my compost pile. Now, if Mr. May does indeed prove right and my baskets are once again glorious in September, I’ll sing his praises instead of my standard, “It’s the Alaskan Fish fertilizer.”
