From mud to hugs

Sarah at Shaker Lakes saved a bag of yellow-flag iris that had been yanked by youth last week as part of an invasive management effort. I swung by a couple days after harvest and snipped away what I needed, had a conversation with a writer that was reading in the picnic bench area, and then took it away in a bucket.

They were muddy so I rinsed them at the Morgan before cooking. Somehow, despite the brutal mosquito attacks yesterday (my exposed calves were brutalized and I had to cut holes in donated men's socks to make leg warmers that covered them up. Even after that, I had to DEET spray myself so they'd stay away from my face/head), I managed to rinse, cook, rinse, beat, pull, press, and load into the dry box.

I made a card for my hostess because I wanted to share the bounty (iris paper sitting below the card): she mentioned that irises were her late mother's favorite flowers. I think that as exciting as it is to see and handle a sheet of paper made from common plants, it's even better to transform them into something more. I wrote a poem inside after sorting out the pop-ups and encased the whole thing in an iris paper envelope. A good use of the evening before dinner with a friend, an excellent way to spend a lazy Sunday. Velma helped me get some perspective as I shirked my less-fun duties, and I hope to return to them tomorrow with a better attitude.