Opinion

Now that most of my gardening friends have their gardens planted, it’s time to think about adding mulch to our plots - if we haven’t done so already. Garden mulching is the process of laying material over the soil to retain moisture, regulate temperature and minimize weeds - and adding nutrients as they decompose.

With the weekend of graduations past us, I’m left reflecting (and feeling old). Not only reflecting on my own graduates childhood years leading up to this point, but on the years working in journalism in this area.

Was that horrible series of storms just last Monday? If you don’t live in the area, you’re lucky, I guess. Several tornadoes and horrific straight line winds. Although I didn’t go down the basement, at the height of the storm, I thought I should have. I was sitting in the living room watching the trees bending. I am thankful that I was one of the lucky ones. A couple of weed trees were topped and I lost a few shingles. People near me lost big trees and had sheds blown down. As I pick up branches and sticks from my lawn I need to remember how I was spared. I am thankful that no lives were lost.

Sometimes my past experiences, when coupled with an active imagination, become strange bedfellows. Most recently this came to pass as I cleaned up after the devastating storms we had a couple of weeks ago.

In the cooler months, Uncle Tony is a staple around the house. Uncle Tony’s usually up at dawn, sipping coffee, enjoying the sunrise, reading the paper. Then you might not see Uncle Tony until the evening. More often than not, Uncle Tony skips happy hour and dinner altogether, emerging to read to the kids, and helping with bath time. On the weekend Uncle Tony might cozy up for a movie. But Uncle Tony is not a fan of the warmer weather. One of the first unofficial signs of summer is./ when it heats up outside and Uncle Tony goes to the basement until fall. Perhaps I should

As I write my column this week, I’m surrounded by boxes of graduation decorations, photographs, graduation caps and gowns, and all other kinds of necessary items to host a party for my graduate. We didn’t hold a graduation party for my oldest, as he was off to basic training the summer of his junior year, and off to advanced training directly at the end of senior year.

2022 Seniors . . . Well, here you are about to graduate. I’m sure you’re pinching yourself at the prospect of reaching your goal of the last 12 years. I think of you all as caterpillars. You’re about to leave your cocoons; your high school and homes, to emerge as butterflies and fly away to your futures. Please know that every teacher you ever had is bursting with pride at your accomplishment. They will follow your ups and downs through life. Every time your picture appears in the paper, they will say, “There’s my former student.” You will always be their kids.

Because of Memorial Day on Monday, May 30, I need to write my column Wednesday. Although it has been a busy week already for me, my doings aren’t necessarily newsworthy.

Glancing over at my neighbor’s yard I noticed a thick clump of bright yellow dandelion blooms all packed together in a tight mound. Suddenly, as though a burst of wind had thrust them aloft from below, the mass of yellow flitted upward and streaks of yellow arched out in every direction across the yard.