Ye gods, things have been busy around here. Between getting the kids ready to go off to Nana’s house in Pensacola for three weeks (followed by our one week vacation). and dealing with TWO new kittens, the past week has left little time for actual outdoor things. Which is convenient because the Rainy Season has officially started, and our regularly scheduled afternoon showers start about 3PM these days. And continue on through the evening hours, usually.

We Florida residents (well, some of us, dammit) cry about the heat, until the rainy season, when we cry about the SOGGY. If I didn’t already keep my hair winched back in a ponytail holder and/or bandana, it would surely be a world-class ‘fro by now.

I do shudder to think of the fungal and mildew growth going on in my garden. The watermelon vines already look bloody awful:

That’s about 2/3 of the leaves they used to have.

The cucumber there (climbing up the enclosure) looks great, but touch the leaves and clouds of whiteflies come pouring out.

The rain “barrel” just keeps on overflowing:

Yeah, I leave that blue hose laying about…it’s the garden tool equivalent of Calvin’s bicycle…I hate it and it hates me. So there it stays.

The pool is nigh to overflowing, which means we have to hook up a hose to the pump and run all that perfectly good water down into the drainage ditch behind the house.

It is also full of frickin’ gnats, which seem to congregate on top of our enclosure for nasty gnat sex whenever it rains…

…ergo get pushed through the screen holes and wind up in our pool water:

Blergh.

The Birdhouse Gourd loves all the extra rain, taking this opportunity to climb right up on top of the enclosure:

How we’re going to get any gourds down from up there, I’ve no idea.

The peppers (far left) are just fine with all the extra water, churning out leaves and fruit like they have a fiesta to attend around 8PM or so:

There’s some bonus dog butt there in the middle for you. That’s Mal, checking out the compost we have, erm…sitting, yeah, on the pad in preparation for moving into the bin proper. Because we’d never just throw stuff there and leave it. Nope.

The grass loves the rain, as well. I think it might give the honeysuckle a run for its money:

The other things loving all the extra water are the tropicals, of course. All the newly planted cannas and dahlias are sending up stalks and leaves just as fast as they can:

Canna “The President”

Dahlia “Color Spectacle”

Dahlia “Hayley Jane”

My beloved shell ginger (Alpinia zerumbet) is hopefully using this time to get that root system established:

We go on vacation in three weeks, buddy…

One of the other new-ish tropical plantings, the Pancratium zeylanicum, also known as “rain flower,” actually sprouted a solitary flower…which looked much better than this yesterday, obviously:

The white spidery thing to the right there. I assume the leaves will come somewhat later.

The echinacea cannot believe its luck…from garden center to choice garden spot with daily rainfal? Woot!

So I suppose it isn’t all bad. Except I’m definitely losing the Madeira daisy. It’s turning brown and black and I can’t even bring myself to take a picture of it.

Ah well, that spot just cries out for foxglove, or poppies. Or both!

Oh, speaking of kitties…yes, we were…took the new wee one to the vet today, where it was confirmed that Dora is in fact a boy. So a quick discussion between the children ensued (with me emphatically vetoing Seymour), and he was rechristened Hermes. Like that’s not a HUGE name for a bitty kitty to live up to.

Pictures? Why yes, we do indeed have pictures.

This is the O-man (Oliver), napping on my shoulder last night:

He started out on the arm of the couch there, and through the course of the movie wallowed his way over on to my nice black shirt. Which is now nicely covered in orange kittybutt hair.

Caught him playing in the cat tower this morning:

He is still Very Put Out with the new little man, making the most awful wildcatty growls and yarls whenever he gets near. I know they’re going to be wrestling like sibs in the next week but it sounds right now like O would like to pull out H’s pancreas.

Here’s H’s current digs in our bathroom:

The Girlchild had tarted up this box with her favorite little blanket for O, and added a stuffed doggie for H. O will walk into the bathroom, doing his little man growl, and beat the living crap out of that stuffed dog. I suppose I have to find the video camera for that…

And finally, H’s pretty little face, by request:

How could you say no to that face? We’re doomed.