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Morning Dew, er Sweat

Usually I wait until after work to putter in the garden, but those huge empty boxes just callllled to me this morning, and our clients were courteous enough to refrain from having life or death issues, so I went on out and planted.  Typically here is where I type out a big long list of what went where, etc. etc., but since I’ve already written it down in my garden journal (and I’m more lazy than not-lazy), how ’bout I just snap a pic of that instead… (As always, click for larger view.)

Garden Journal

Oh hey, I don’t want to hear any of your handwriting analysis theories, mmkay?  I write in all caps because A) I’m a visual artist, and B) it’s soooo much neater than my cursive.  NOT a serial killer.  And apparently can’t spell radicchio.

Bonus kitty pictures!  Hermes, taking a break from the outside excitement of chasing bugs and fleeing from the wind:


Oliver, wondering why I’m pointing that thing at him and when I’m going to wash off the patio:


Later, ya judgemental little orange bastard.