Last fall, my father brought me some bulbs from the iris flowers which grow in his garden. He's grown irises as long as I can remember; they are an inheritance from his grandmother's garden. My dad has moved the bulbs from house-to-house (we're a shiftless lot, my family) and now I have some for my garden. I planted the bulbs by the garage hostas, where I knew they would receive plenty of sun as well as some protection from wind. I organized JT's efforts to keep the bunnies away. And then I waited for my much anticipated flowers to bloom.