May 11, 2026: An assortment of gnomish miniatures displayed on someone’s front walk along Gillen St. in Racine, Wisconsin.
Another Week: Number 177
Lawn and garden season is in full swing here.
On Sunday, the head of my EGO String Trimmer blew apart right after reloading. It cost $51 to replace and left a sour taste in my mouth.
The three lavender plants I put in last year all died, so I decided to switch to phlox for its hummingbird appeal, 2-4 foot height, and fragrance at my living room window. Phlox paniculata ‘David’ is supposed to resist powdery mildew.
We’ll see. On Thursday, I bought three Phlox Davids at Milaeger’s — along with my usual two Wendy’s Wish salvias, the best hummingbird magnet I know of. A robin followed me around the yard to encourage my digging, which unearths delicious worms.
I also spread my first three mid-May bags of Milorganite on the lawn, with nine more to follow in mid-June, mid-July, and mid-September. August is iffy, depending on how stressed the grass is by heat or drought.
Heading inside at 6 p.m., St. Lucy’s Angelus bells were ringing and I felt like a devout agriculturalist.
Friday the yard was crazy with birds. Finches nesting in the yews near my front door were getting raided by crows. A team of White-crowned Sparrows was conducting a grid search of my grass. A pair of Gray Catbirds inspected the property. And I saw my first Ruby-throated Hummingbird of the season sipping from my hummingbird feeder. She looked kind of plump.
I also tried to sit and read in my favorite shaded corner of the yard on Friday, but it was freezing. I must have tried five different hoodies and jackets and coats — and even considered my parka — but finally folded and went back inside.
Saturday was much nicer — pure and sunny barefoot bliss with a good book on my Kindle and squirrels tiptoeing toward me.
Donald J. Trump travelled to China this week, where on Wednesday he lurched around a multi-directional, multi-stationed red carpet with Xi Jinping. At one station, an assigned throng of flag-waving Chinese kids briefly cheered the two leaders on cue, and the abruptly went silent again. Little else was accomplished.
I only took one 3.22 mile walk, but there was a lot of yard work activity.
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Summertime (1955)
On Saturday night at my mom’s, I selected a 1955 David Lean film currently streaming on HBO Max. Summertime stars Katharine Hepburn as an unmarried administrative assistant from Akron who travels to Venice, Italy in search of something romantic. Rossano Brazzi co-stars as Venice local who hangs out in Piazza San Marco. Neither by mother nor I had seen this picture, but she likes Hepburn and adores Brazzi, so off we went to Venice for an hour and 40 minutes.
This movie is an odd amalgamation. First of all, it’s a ton of gorgeous Venetian scenery — lots of gondola traffic and flocks of flying pigeons. Then it’s also a romantic comedy, with Hepburn initially wary and resistant of Brazzi’s suave charms. A cute kid (Gaetano Autiero) follows Hepburn around like a magpie. For some reason, it even claims to co-star Darren McGavin and features him on the poster, but he speaks about one line.
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There’s an excellent scene with keen dialog when Brazzi and Hepburn finally confront each other. There’s frustrating conflict — and an unexpected resolution.
I found it diverting enough. My mother, though, has watched it three more times since.
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