Hellebore

I think this is a variety of hellebore, but I'm not sure. I didn't plant them, they come up in our neighbor's garden across the road. When they're not at their vacation house, Ken and I will often walk through their grassy property with Tasha, partly to keep an eye on things and partly to vary our route, especially when the vineyard road is a muddy mess.

Hellebores are "hellébores" in French. That makes it easy to remember.

But there's no mud to speak of right now. A week of dry weather, with more to come, has let the water run off and seep in. I'm going to have to cut the grass soon, but first I'll need to venture out for some gasoline. I'm going to the supermarket and the pharmacy this morning, but I'm not sure I want to add the gas station to that trip. I'm going to see if the pharmacy has any disinfectant wipes that we can use, among other things, to wipe the handles of the gas pumps before using them. That's probably a good practice anyway, but I never thought to do it before this coronavirus thing.