It's May Day!

Scenes from a glorious Sunday afternoon. Yes, that's right: it's..."More Signs of Spring!"  -- back by popular demand.

Artistically blurry whitesy-pink azalea along our very own front walk.

More artistically blurry azaleas -- this time, the shy little pink one which peeks from underneath the giant white near the kitchen door. It blooms well before the white one manages to open a single blossom. Zero visits it often; he appreciates its qualities of delicacy and reserve.

Annoying white poodle with even more annoying bark; hidden by fence striping (which is as it should be.)

The dadliest of Dads, playing Mulch Monster even as he chats about finance with his elder daughter. Note the signature bandana. (And of course the Carhartt's). Coolest dad on the planet. Hardest working man in mulch business.

And the piece of resistance! The first raised bed, dug out by the hulking mass o' muscle that is the mother of the house. The bed is just a tad on the uneven side, but still promises to bear much in the way of vegetable glory, once we get that mushroom soil all packed in. (Oh -- and, of course, something planted as well.)

I want you to know that I refrained from sharing a photo of the very disgusting blister that I raised on my right hand (argh, the Money Hand) while digging away BEFORE recalling the virtues of sunscreen and workgloves.

So it's another beautiful blooming Sunday. Off in the distance, we hear Six Pack playing another tired version of "Jumping Jack Flash" because May Day also brings, of course, the Chestnut Hill Garden Festival. Loyal Hillers that we are, we do plan to have schmitters (schmitteren?) for dinner.