Well, I closed on the other house this morning.

An older lady, (older than me, anyway,) who I don't know but who has a charming vernacular garden up the street several blocks stopped by one day while I was in the yard and asked if she could have some poppy seeds when they were ready. I was so glad she stopped. I had worked as a docent in her garden a few years ago for the garden tour, but didn't get the chance to meet her. I ran into her in the grocery store this afternoon and told her the poppy seeds were ready. She had heard that I was moving soon from someone, and wondered if she might have some other plants.    She is coming down early tomorrow morning before the heat gets bad with nursery pots and we are going to dig up irises and the like for her to transplant. That feels good. I have many more plants than friends and gardening acquaintances can possibly take (and we have been passing along plants to each other for years, so they already have anything growing in my garden that they want.

It is those plants from dear friends that must have full-sun that I am grieving, not the plants I bought, or purchased seeds for, except those that are descendents of my first efforts.

I need to take a page from Amos' book and delight in the now, instead of clinging to the past.

*sniff*