You've got to be a bit of an environmentalist when nurturing a garden. There are always things to be done and someone has to do them. Though we haven't been plagued with them lately, at one time during the summer months our lilies were the unhappy beneficiaries of the presence of lily beetles. They're bright orange, just like some of the lilies, and difficult to get rid of. A spray of soapy water doesn't do it, even with pepper added or baking soda. What does work is to crush them. Yours truly does not indulge; the alternative is to drown them. They've got hard shells so if squeezing much pressure is advised.

They also leave a disgusting residue of offal into which they lay their eggs, piled on the stems of lilies that should be rubbed off, a most unpleasant task. We haven't missed their presence these past few years. Irving has now turned his attention to the problem of wilting plants when the garden soil dries between watering sessions. Those areas of the garden directly in sunlight for most of the day are a problem.

There's also the opposite problem, that of continued dampness. That happens when you've got a lot of trees hanging over garden beds and brickwork, that are forever dropping foliage, or berries or spent flowers. Moss loves the atmosphere of dampness and grows colourfully (some of them even send up delightful, tiny flowers) between walkway bricks. Actually, so do some plants that drop their seeds and 'babies' (like heuchera and poppies) in the most minute amount of soil in cracks where new plants spring up lustily and you've got to decide whether to live with them or yank them.

Within the next short while the garden beds are slated for mulching to address the problem of dryness. Irving is used to it, he's been doing it for years; spreading cedar mulch to ensure the soil has some assistance in retaining moisture. And he's also set himself once again the task of renewing the front lawn, so there are bags awaiting his dispersal of soil on the non-existent lawn left in disarray, full of gravel that is inimical to the growing of grass.

The joys of home ownership along with pleasure and pride in a garden meant we were late getting out for our ravine hike today, after the housecleaning was done. But we did get out, albeit later than usual because no summer day should be allowed to pass without making the most of an outdoor excursion...that's a little lesson patiently taught to us by Jackie and Jillie ... and before them, Button and Riley whose spirit appears to have invaded J&J.

Sunny, not too warm and breezy enough to keep the mosquitoes at bay, it couldn't have been more pleasant. A disturbing realization intruded, however, that we've seen very few bees, butterflies, dragonflies, damselflies, hoverflies and other flying creatures as yet this summer. We'd gladly trade any of them for mosquitoes. But nature isn't listening.

There's plenty for them to involve themselves with, as pollinators; blooming cowvetch and clover, tons of thimbleberries and cinquefoil and buttercups, and more latterly, Queen Anne's lace, and Black-eyed Susans, now joined by compass plants and panicles of elderberry flowers on their way to becoming edible berries.