Babs wended her way south and westward and stopped at the iris farm on M-72 in Leelanau County. It’s a grand prospect, that iris farm. [I would love to show it to you, and coincidentally enough Babs sent a really good photo of the place, but between my internet having slowed to a crawl and WordPress having tinkered with the blogging platform until it’s utterly unstable, I can’t post the picture. Not tonight anyway. Do I sound cranky? I am. I am going to bury myself under the down comforter and read a storybook to the Duo. I will feel better in the morning. Stay tuned. Or . . . go read a good book. Heck with the 21st Century.] UPDATE 6-13-2011: This morning we were able to get the photo uploaded and here it is in all its glory:
I have a happy memory of that place. When Chikako Suzuki lived in Chicago, she drove up to visit. “Can we go to the iris farm?” she asked. “Iris farm?” I asked. And so I learned about it. Off we went, over hill and down dale, and came to acres and acres of splendor. Best of all, we were able to “cut our own” for something like $1 a bloom–this was awhile ago, don’t hold them to that–and we came home with armloads of some of the most beautiful iris I’ve ever seen. They lasted a good long time, too.