Swept off one's feet in the Garden of Hard Knocks

Thinking too much…is there such a thing as thinking too much. 

I’m going to quit thinking for the rest of the day.

Eleven Days Ago

One step backwards and my balance was lost.

Airborne, I landed with the back of my head hitting the re-bar fence -

lower shoulders hitting the concrete stepping stones -

right arm hitting the log my falling bod knocked over.

That's the story I'm stuck with that sounds the best

cause,

I remember nothing except floating through the air

 and hitting the back of my head.

Took myself to the emergency room

 as the knots on my head and right arm HURT!

That experience was a nightmare.

Felt like a slab of meat on a conveyor belt in a factory

being picked over...

but was worried about my head or arm being cracked.

Pronounced okay that evening

had to visited my doctor next day because of chest pains.

Diagnosed with an inflammation of my rib cage -

still on medication and the pain is still there

if I exert myself.

I don't recommend this experience to anyone :)

Parking on one's own lawn by front door -

must be a southern thing.

Quite common here -

I've never experienced it any where else.

Moon and Stars Watermelon

Cantaloupe -

Not sure of its survival, as all the leaves 

have powdery mildew from so much rain.

I'm guessing the over abundance of rain every day did my corn in.

Got tired of re-staking it upright again every day, 

so pulled it all out...

hardly any roots had developed, so...

Last time it grew in the container it rooted to China...

don't know what gives this time around.

Things are beginning to fall apart.

A snake in the yard...Yeh!

Spotted here when part of the yucca was removed.

Slid under the rocks in the background as I disturbed him.

Garter snake - likes to snack on my small ground critters.

Blueberry

Gardens and Life...

the bad

 with the good.

The Connection between Gossamer Wings and Fog Horns

A new batch of cicadas is in town.  The big ones...the ones that leave exit holes in the earth from half an inch and up.  Do you think they know I'm in love with Phillip Glass tunes...these little male composers of music with repetitive structures?  I do believe an entire day of one Phillip Glass composition repeatedly repeating would drive me into white rabbit territory, while the cicada's song drives me a little less than half bonkers.

Thousands of these guys expanding and contracting that part of them that belts out the same uproarious chorus over and over and over again from sunrise to sunset, proving once and for all time that no amount of ear-splitting pandemonium will cause the dead to rise, otherwise, they would be surging out of their graves by the multitudes at this very moment.

Glassy wings of transparency etched with strengthening veins, these little tykes with buggy eyes emerge from their underground world of a few or many years, depending on which family tree, for their last tango in Paris.  From dark into glorious golden light we all know when they have arrived.

Choosing not to scream bloody murder, I just slip into that quiet place two rows down to the left of that thingamajig in the far right corner of my mind, and toil in blissful solitude amongst the gardens and winged chaos.  When I do come up for air I'm reminded once again that nature is indeed a fickle spirit with sometimes no rhyme or reason whatsoever for life.  Isn't that grand!

I'm having one of those rest of my life experiences in which my weekdays are twelve days long and my weekends end after two hours.  I seem to be hurtling towards oblivion at astronomical supersonic speeds and when I try to drag my foot a little to slow myself down it catches on fire and I'm Haley's comet.  Figure that one out if you can.

That time of summer has arrived when gardening chores have become gardening CHORES.  When that last tree seedling and that last weed can never be found.  When I'm loosing my battle against the ants for territory.  When sitting on the back deck with a cup of Lady gray tea beside a bowl full of biscuits and blueberries and whipped cream, and a good book opened to page ninety three remains just a dream in my weary noggin.

But maybe, just maybe...

this year will be different :)

Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly in perfect beauty

An older one a little ragged around the edges

Another one not perfect, but still a creature of graceful beauty

Waiting for the corn to grow taller and anchor better in the moist soil

Watermelon vines looking for the street

and

huge honeydew melon leaves.

The basil's lost in there somewhere.

Larger yellow moons and smaller yellow stars

Moon and Stars Melon

Foam Flower leaves

Blending into the environment,

dragonflies are one of the most vicious insects in existence 

when it comes to eating-

oftentimes catching and devouring their meals in flight.

They have an endless appetite.

A deadly killer camouflaged in beauty.

Green Persimmons

Spicebush Swallowtail on Joe Pye Weed 

 

Until next time we meet-

forget me not ;)

or

do :(

Ninety & Rising...Red-Hot Gardens

Doggie Poo!  What a lame title.
How could there be 90 cats in 
the gardens?

Maybe mommy's topsy turvy today.

 

A day of no rain :)

and sizzling temperatures :(

Homeless

Plants and concrete :(

Boooooring...

CAT ART

Claw Scratches on Piglet

Purrr...this altered pig is the next best thing to us!

Missed the boat as usual...faith in a late fall frost date

is all that remains.

Moon and Stars Watermelon

Oh, Pleaseee...

Charentais Melon

Sun Gold Tomato

Old-Fashion Fragrant Petunias

 You don't, dorky cat.  We're just photos on a post.  You aren't ever going to be able to do anything except look.

WHAT!!!

:(