Back to the future, early tomato garden and flowers

Now as autumn rains fall, I'm looking back to the early summer days

with a mix of nostalgia and remembered exhaustion.

This photo represents some 6 or 7 hours of cutting down a huge stand of golden rod, then digging up their thickly matted roots, and getting painful, itchy dermatitis from poison oak or poison ivy. 

Good times.

 

My mom and brother put in stakes anticipating the growth to come over the hot, long summer to come. Hostas got burnt since the demise of the nectarine tree in the foreground.

 

I wish I wrote down the names of the heirloom varieties.

 

 

Phlox and trumpet vine.

 

Susan black eyes as my my mother calls them.

 

 

This nectarine bore a lot of fruit. 

Discovered by ants and squirrels alike.

 

 

Love my flamingos.

 

Love. Take good care. 

 Lemony wood sorrel underneath.

One of several edible "weeds" that are easily found in garden. 

The others were lamb quarters, garlic mustard, and purslane, not pictured.

 

"S" for so long!

 

High winds

It's a beast, it's a bear, it's tugging at my hair, not so chill and not so balmy, but certainly ferocious.

November winds have descended on our corner of the concrete landscape.  Brings to mind childhood story book illustration with North Wind with puffed up cheeks swooshing out a tremendous, forceful burst of wind (of course) with plenty more where that came from.  He is howling now. Portends rain, sleet, hail.  Anything can happen.   In July, ice balls, the size perfect for cooling off drinks, pounded down.  My dentist's car suffered $9000 of damage. Car sirens all around bellowed for salvation.

Now, today, our windows are shaking in their frames.  No hatches to batten down. I hope the roofing holds.  I hope the girls in their high heels and short dresses are safely blown home from the bars.  I hope their beaus hold on to their wads of cash money. 

Windy, rainy weather shakes dollars loose.  A tenner outside the darkest bar (now sadly closed and beautiful, sinister building demolished and replaced with crammed into the spot moderne mansion.) A $20 in a clump of dried leaves.  Folded into quarters, looking like a trick, but real for sure.  Eighty summthing coiled up tight in a rubberband.  Pay$ to look down sometimes.

Twig fencing, "yard" art flamingos, mystery lady mask all casualties.  Went out before midnight. Glorious full moon with blue clouds flowing past, choppy like waves. As I dreaded, noticed wide gaps on the clothes lines where this afternoon I optimistically used the usual 2 clothes pins per garment.  The good new was that most of the remaining clothes, even thick sweaters  and blue jeans were whipped dry.

Will have to conduct a search tomorrow in the daylight in the alley, neighbor's patio, didn't see anything on the nearby rooftops.  Must hold on to hope.  Last week, I  distractedly dropped favorite, worn sheepskin mittens in an alley.  Discovered their missingness at work. Retraced my steps in the afternoon.  Found them soaked and clinging to the ground almost the last place I could have looked.   Sometimes it's the small things that can sink a person or pick her up.