It’s curious how there are so many different weather situations on the Island. For example, I had a hard freeze over last weekend while a house less than a half-mile away did not.

My friend Sharlee, who lives on Chappy, is always either ahead or behind me with temperature and rainfall.

I tend to make up reasons but really have no idea.

I have a fully-blooming forsythia. It’s especially odd in that it has all its leaves. In the spring, the flowers appear on the bare branches. Again, I struggle to find the cause of this quirk.

People, please rethink any decision to put rosa rugosa on your property unless you actually live at the beach.

At a job site recently, I spent some time cutting them to the quick. They looked ghastly. Sadly, they will be back next spring, stronger than ever. I spent the evening trying to remove the invisible thorns from my fingers. Sigh!

At the hospital, take the left road to Oak Bluffs. You can avoid the strange cut-out on the right. You will be rewarded by seeing a small house with a purple door flanked by two bright red burning bushes. I know they are invasive and should not be planted but they certainly make a statement at this time of year!

At the old Marjorie Rogers property on Indian Hill Road, there are several large white geese. On Tuesday I drove past and every one was resting with its head tucked under a wing. It’s time to once again share my favorite palindrome: Do Geese See God.

Often I use vinca in window boxes and ornamental pots. They always come back. I had the not-so-bright idea to put a few in the garden several years ago.

Words fail me to describe what happened. They took over a huge area, covering all the existing plants, several inches above everything else.

This is because I have a problem with saving anything that has the slightest potential for life.

When I was born, seven of my eight great-grandparents were alive. I remember six of them. My grandfather’s parents lived with them the entire time my mother grew up. Great-grandmother Mum was quite a gardener. During the Depression she had my mother and her four siblings dig a huge root cellar under the house. I remind my children and grandchildren of this when they complain of helping me with some of my harebrained ideas.

My two most important kitchen items are the freezer and the crockpot.

I like to cook, especially with food I grow. I just don’t like to do it every day. Since I no longer prepare meals for a family, I still make the same amounts. Then single servings can be popped into the freezer, put into a crock pot on low in the morning and voila: dinner awaits after a long day of activities.

In the late ‘60s I lived in our nation’s capital, doing my part in the anti-war effort. One time I was hauled into a courtroom. Even in the most rebellious time of my young life, I knew better than to talk smack about the judge. By the way, that judge was John Sirica, who later became known for his role in the Watergate trials.

It’s obvious where I am going with this. I cannot decide if Donald Trump thinks he has a strategy or if he is so narcissistic that he thinks he’s right. Hopefully, I will never know what he thinks.

Plus, the endless name calling is soooo boring.

For his own good he should stop it. Someone could actually get hurt.

I like to change the well-known adage: sticks and stones may break my bones but words can hurt forever.