It was so hot, dry and bright on Monday that I went into major projection about the coming few months. Talk about not staying in the day I was in.

I started hauling hoses, one of my least favorite garden tasks. This brings up the subject of irrigation. Often times, the automatic systems are set to run two or three days a week. Each zone gets about a 10-minute sprinkle.

Here’s what happens if you are a plant. Frequent watering of only a small amount causes the root system to stay near the surface which, in turn, tends to dry out. Better to give a garden a thorough soaking once a week. The roots then go deep as nature intends, and are more prepared to withstand a long, hot day.

Too bad that advice doesn’t help in relation to floats and pots. They need a nearly daily sip.

As you can imagine I am in the daily watering mode right now because of my inability to get things into the ground in a timely fashion.

Most of the peonies have opened. What a wonderful plant. They can live for decades and often have a sentimental story, i.e. “this was transplanted from my great aunt’s garden.” I’ve heard some transplants went out west on Conestoga wagons.

There is a myth that ants on a peony bud help the flower to open. I’m personally fond of that story but I think the ant and the peony are mutual help-mates. The peony provides the ant with a sugary nectar while the ants kill other bothersome insects that could harm the peony.

The moral of the story is, don’t worry if you see ants, and please forget insecticide.

My Kolkwitzia is blooming. Also known as Beauty Bush, it is a lovely shrub similar in shape to a Weigela. There is a nice one on State Road in North Tisbury opposite the State Road Restaurant.

One of my favorite perennials is Amber Moon astilbe. It blooms pink but has distinctive yellow leaves. It looks great even not blooming and will brighten up a shady garden. Gayle Gardens was the only place I could find some new ones and they had very few. It’s worth asking shopkeepers to order some for fall planting.

I travel various dirt roads in my work life. It’s amazing how often a little chipmunk scoots across in front of my truck. It’s funny how a little rodent can be so adorable and its cousin, the rat, is so detestable. One time I saw a chipmunk in the strawberry patch. It was carrying an entire large strawberry in its mouth that, literally, was as big as its head. I had been wondering why the ripened berries seemed to all be gone on picking day.

Long gone and only committed to memory are the days of First Lady Michelle Obama’s vegetable garden at the White House. I was thinking about her this past weekend with the news of her mother’s death.

Marian Robinson lived all eight years in the Obama White House, tending to the first daughters. She was of an age that during the pre-civil rights era in the southern United States, she would have been assigned a seat at the back of the bus. I was always amused that she ended up at 100 Pennsylvania Avenue.

With all the talk of the Biden control of the Department of Justice, it’s odd that his own son is now facing a criminal trial in Delaware. Joe Biden is not the mastermind the MAGA crowds make him out to be. Oh, and isn’t he also a doddering old man who cannot put two sentences together?