Since I write on Tuesday for a Wednesday morning pick-up, I missed discussing last Thursday’s impressive rainfall. Violet helped pile bags of compost on the edge of my driveway. The water was rushing and threatened to come in the kitchen door. Yikes. On one of the job sites, a gutter failed and filled a large stone planting pot. Nicely spread compost and mulch formed rivers into lawns. Sigh!

Then, since I forgot the holiday was early, I neglected to thank the thousands who gave it all for our country. It is never lost on me, especially seeing the rows of flags in the Vineyard Haven cemetery. A special shout out to WWI grandfathers, WWII Dad and his brothers, high school classmates and boyfriends called up to Vietnam. After the draft ended, another thanks to volunteers.

How, before everything is planted, do the gardens get so far away from a person? I have an impressive amount of wild morning glory and mugwort. There is a remarkable amount of reseeded Sweet Annie. I’m loathe to pull it up as it’s so pretty and smells great.

Also reseeded and now blooming are the progeny of my long ago planted mache. Mache, also known as corn salad, is a small, edible green. It likes cool weather and is similar to spinach. I didn’t find it wonderful, but it did provide an early spring salad. It was certainly better than my least favorite, arugula. It’s odd that I dislike it as I eat kale and collards raw.

And this week’s photo for the column is of the plant I wrote about in my April 4 column — Lauren Grape Poppy — now all grown up.

Last fall I put a white ornamental squash as a door decoration. Sadly, I watched it rot and kept meaning to dispose of it. Finally, I tossed a shovelful of dirt on it and walked away. Now some beautiful seedlings have emerged. They are so much healthier than the sad ones I seeded. Isn’t that always the way? I’ve often remarked: “Isn’t nature grand?”

One Tuesday morning I was in the line of traffic to turn from State Road onto the Edgartown Road. The morning sun was highlighting a little stand of irises at the corner house. Soon that property will have a purple rose blooming.

My irises are only budding at this writing, that is with the exception of Caesar’s brother. A Siberian, it does make quite a statement. Irises have a subtle smell just like their color i.e. white/vanilla, purple/grape and tangerine/citrus. If you are planting them, they like to be fairly close to the surface. A large stand will let you know when it wants to be divided. The center will die and the edges can be made into several new plants.

My friend, Randy, gave me a tote full of sweet potatoes that she started herself. She used a new method (to me) and had incredible success. Right now, I’m in the process of worrying all the rooted slips apart in order to get them into the ground. They are so much healthier than the ones I mail-ordered and paid an outrageous price for. Hope I remember in a fall column to inform you, dear reader, as to the exact process she used.

During the 2016 presidential election, then candidate D.J.T. made the statement, “I love the poorly educated.” We know that, Donnie, and now you are doing your best to assure that even more of us will be. Not only is your administration trying to undermine the Department of Education and sink federal money into private “religious” schools, but now higher education institutions are on the chopping block.

God forbid we develop critical thinking in our young and those that exercise free speech should be intimated and frankly stopped. Way to go Harvard! Keep fighting!