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La Commedia della Garden

After ten hours on the road yesterday, today’s agenda holds nothing whatsoever resembling actual exertion.  We were so tired last night that I forgot to take a picture of the first San Marzano tomato before I ate it.  But, trust me, it was tasty.

Another thing that is so very delightful about the rainy season (other than the previously mentioned soggy), and another reason I feel no particular need to be outside today, is the smell.  Things rot when they get wet, things you can’t see or find.  It smells foetid out there, people.  So here are some pictures from Friday…

This is the dying Marguerite Daisy.  Dammit.

I’m pretty sure overwatering is the culprit here.  That looks like a good old case of root rot.

At least the four o’clocks are happy:

As are the poblano peppers:

The skippers and the zinnias are happy:

The bonus hollyhock from the “wildflower” patch out front is happy:

The salvia greggii is just conflicted.  It’s usually a violent pink color, but lately of a morning, it has been (I kid you not), orangey-red:

What the heck is that all about?  Temperature/moisture variation?  It is the oddest thing.

All weather-related bitching aside, one of the best things about living in Florida is at any time you can walk outside to find a herd of creatures in your yard:

These are sandhill cranes, and friends and neighbors, eight of them at once are LOUD.

Here’s some other loudmouths…

Deadly Little Miho miaows at me when I cough.  Or sneeze. Or make any kind of loud noise.

Oliver boy here is just trouble on four paws.  I spent most of last night trying to sleep between his demands for head scritches.

I seem to remember at one poiint he was lying across my throat, purring like mad.

But he’s cute, so whatyagonnado?