By LYNNE IRONS

It is difficult to set my priorities this time of year. It is still so warm and pleasant. Should I finish picking and processing those late peppers, tomatoes, and green beans, or should I clean out the wood stove and gather kindling? I had so much to do the other day that I became paralyzed. I sat on a stool and picked dead leaves off the ladies’ mantle. It is rather like organizing the Tupperware when in the middle of a crisis.

By Lynne Irons

How about that Al Gore winning the Nobel Peace Prize? Nice to know he is still getting the popular vote. I listened to his acceptance speech. He told an African proverb. “If you want to go somewhere quickly, go alone, but if you want to go far, go together.”

By LYNNE IRONS

I am enjoying a big glass of grape juice at this moment. If I could have a do-over in the gardening world, I would not have constructed a grape arbor, however pleasing to the eye. Mine is made from locust posts and very attractive. I would have to be 4 feet, 5 inches tall to comfortably pick the grapes. I think I am going to tear it down, cut the vines within an inch of their lives, and string some wire along the posts like they do in the big wineries.

By LYNNE IRONS

I use a typewriter to write this column. I really like the sound and feel of the old-fashioned typewriter. People make fun of me endlessly but that has never stopped me in any other of my pursuits. Granted I use gallons of white correction fluid and the reliable Webster’s for spell-check.

By LYNNE IRONS

Holy potatoes. As you may recall, in the spring, I tossed my potatoes into my old chicken yard, covered each with a flake of hay, and walked away. I didn’t do one bit of maintenance except for a good dose of water every ten days or so. At the risk of sounding a bit smug . . . I can’t believe the results. I now have more than three bushels of spuds in the kitchen.

By LYNNE IRONS

Last Saturday’s rain made me so happy. There is nothing quite like waking up to that soft patter. It sure makes one’s bed enjoyable. I love the smell of rain especially on hot pavement. We are in desperate need of a slow, steady soaking.