Changing time

 The other morning, heading down the steps to an appointment, there in the big sedum pot, a little purple colchicum blossom had worked its way through the mat of fleshy vines and begun to open.

I carefully cleaned out all the other growth, even some weeds, to admire the little fellow.  This bulb has followed me since childhood. My dad presented me with some every fall, from his treasured collection. I wonder where all they may be planted now.

I realized I should see it before it's gone. I was right; it's full open. I'll bank up the soil to protect the bulb this winter, which is forecast to be harsh. Like they all aren't, one way or another. Next spring I'll plant the pot in perennials. My great bulb experiment failed.

Pig and zinnias were a success. Pig's nose has been in the bouquet for the last week. I want bigger zinnias next year. I noted same on my May, 2021 calendar. The beginning of a happy new summer and our country beginning to be better.

I've begun the next warp, grass green. And while today is trash day, it also is the day I expected delivery of a new box of warp. Things like this make an old woman anxious. Big box! What if Jim and his big UPS truck had to defer to big trash trucks, or worse yet, the box is balanced on his shoulder and.....

But the box was safely deposited on my very own Percy, under the supervision of you know who. All in a day's work. I wheeled it to the studio.

Tomorrow's job is reorganize the thread shelf and unload the colors.

I looked down and realized I'm not just a number, I have a name. It's been a little interesting fooling with positioning pictures, but not enough to do it again.