Last Friday evening the rain, thunder and lightning could almost be called biblical. It washed away my carefully applied Bobbex so naturally deer polished off most of my Pink Impression Darwin tulips. The little jerks. I had been enjoying them from my kitchen window.

Now is the time of year to focus on tulips. Beloved by deer, rabbits and an occasional escaped donkey, they are one of my personal favorites. I forget how long it took for the realization to hit that only the Darwins can be considered remotely perennial. For years I planted Mount Tacoma and Angelique only to wonder what happened after two or three years.

If any of the fancy ones like the aforementioned are wanted, just consider them annuals to save yourself disappointment.

As luck would have it, the April 26 travel section of the New York Times had a three-page spread on tulips. It took the reader on a bicycle tour of the gardens near the Dutch city of Leiden. One garden at Keukenhof Castle at Lisse grows seven million bulbs.

Rembrandt van Rijn’s painting of his wife, Saskia, as Flora Goddess of Spring features her with a huge striped red and white tulip in her crown of flowers. Today, one can purchase the striped Rembrandt tulips.

Tulips arrived in the Netherlands in 1562. Thought to be a Turkish onion, they didn’t taste good and were thrown into a rubbish pile. The following spring the flower emerged and the rest is history.

This past fall I did make a substantial order from K. van Bourgondien. Because time got away from me as it usually does I dug several large holes. Into each I put five tulips, five daffodils, five hyacinths and handfuls of crocuses. Color me pleased. Several of the combinations were downright fabulous.

For example, Ambergate daffodil (apricot with a darker orange center) Daydream tulip (shades of pale orange), City of Haarlem hyacinth and yellow early crocuses.

Also, the carmine deep red Ronaldo tulip with Jan Bos hot pink hyacinth and Pink Charm daffodil.

Recently in 7a, several of us were commenting on the daffodils at Polly Hill. Someone remarked that they planted 21,000. Wow. Good job.

I’m crazy about the ground phlox blooming in walls and garden edges. Abbe Burt has some nice ones on Skiff avenue and there are some soft pinks and whites on Spring street near the Hebrew cemetery.

Coming up the little hill from Edgartown approaching County Road, the entrance to Mahoney’s is a real treat. It is a very nice blend of the blooming trees and shrubs.

While prepping a bed in the vegetable garden I found several enormous perfect carrots. They are super sweet from their winter in the cold.

What’s up with the endless appeals for money that are stuffed in my mailbox every day. They send along so-called gifts such as notepaper, address labels and cards so as to apply the guilt trip I assume. They should save the time and money.

Now that the Vineyard Haven post office took away the trash bins, people throw debris on the floor and window sills. Who raised them?

I have an old rescue dog. Of late, she doesn’t come when called. I thought perhaps her hearing was going. Then, I dropped a piece of cheese on the floor — she heard that. There are old dogs and dumb dogs but no old dumb dogs.

Several things grabbed my attention in the week’s news. I promise to stick to just two. The measles outbreak is getting plenty of attention. Since I now have a great-grandson under a year old, too young for a vaccine, it is a concern. Everyone I knew had measles growing up — both the three-day and nine-day. I was a senior in high school when the first vaccinations came out. Our mothers kept us in darkened rooms for the duration and we did not understand the fear they had.

Oliver North has been ousted as president of the NRA. Remember him from Iran-Contra? The New York attorney general has launched a big investigation into their finances and tax-free status.

My dad and uncles were all loyal members. Signs on our hunting camp read: “This property protected by Smith and Wesson” and “Don’t worry about the dog — beware of the owner” with a picture of the business end of a double-barrel shotgun.

I was dropped in my family from Mars.