Now, finally, all the work related to the springtime garden chores has been more or less completed. The grass has been re-seeded and is growing nicely, the clean-up in the garden beds has proceeded on plan, and the rewards are readily evident, with the irises and the bleeding hearts in bloom and the geraniums beginning their show-off period. At the side of the house, in the shade garden, the hostas are in full display and the lilies-of-the-valley are dangling their delicate little white bells perfuming the atmosphere.

Our Jack-in-the-Pulpits, trilliums and foamflower, transplanted years ago from the ravine are luxuriantly mature, far more so than any of the ravine specimens; they appear to have gloried in their new home, adjusting to it with great aplomb.

Now, all the work that has to be done is in the neat-and-tidy category, snipping here and there, tying back, pulling weeds, that kind of thing, a pleasure, no chore whatever. We're more than amply rewarded by the colour, texture and overall presentation of our planting, not regimented and tidy in itself, but haphazard and crowded the way we enjoy viewing our gardens. Already the peonies have sent up their generous flower buds, to take the place of the magnolia that has now lost almost all of its gorgeous pink blooms. But the ornamental crabs and the bridal-wreath spirea are nicely compensating, in full generous bloom.

Now, we can sit out on the front patio, an alternative to the covered deck sheltering us from the hot afternoon sun that makes a veritable steam-bath of the backyard with its very particular micro-climate. Sitting out the front has its own pleasures, since we can sit within the very embrace of a few garden beds. And any perambulating neighbours can amble over for a chat.

And we can watch as bold, tiny nuthatches and redpolls take advantage of the birdfeeder hanging nearby our seating area, oblivious to our presence, even with Riley sleeping peacefully beside me on the two-seater, reading the newspaper. Me reading the paper, that is, not Riley. He hasn't as great an interest in news as I have.