Hodge Podge

It irritates the heck out of Fiorella to watch HGTV shows about people who toss money around like it's water. And they're all so young!
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Did you know Price's exodus has brought the tally of number of Trumps' drop-outs to fourteen? And he hasn't even been in office a year yet?
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With the heavy rains we've had, Fio's bayberries look like they've grown a foot taller. Too bad they don't know she's going to be chopping off their heads come November.
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Why is it Fio has nine mosquito bites on her left arm and none on her right?
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Fio got hit by an older man backing his truck out of a parking space at Walgreens the other day.  Apparently, he couldn't see that Baby Car had already started backing, but, luckily, the man sitting in a car next to Fio realized what was happening and honked his horn long and loud. Fio stopped. The truck didn't. CRASH! The older man parked and hobbled over to look at the damage to Baby Car. Surprisingly, there was none, so Fio's going to stop by Mazda and tell the all guys what great rear ends they have.

Fiorella vs.Nature

Fiorella is angry. She took her little red wagon to the creek and loaded it with several stones just the right size to line the porch-line edge of her raised planting beds, but she hit uneven ground as she was hauling the wagon along the fenceline toward the street and it overturned. Not to be thwarted, Fio put the rocks back in the wagon and started off again--but because she hadn't thought to straighten the wheels, the wagon overturned again. Fio was sweating like a pig, the day was so humid she could hardly take a breath, so she decided that, yes, she could be thwarted, deserted the wagon, and staggered back to the house.

Then there are the cast iron plants which won't stay planted despite Fiorella's herculean efforts. And the bayberries, which have betrayed Fiorella by allowing themselves to be ravaged by whatever eats bayberries, and the sages, which developed a stupid fungus and had to be jerked out by the roots, not to mention the dead bird Fio found stuck to the branch of the volunteer mulberry.

When did Mother Nature become such a bitch?

Not A Born Gardener

Fiorella, thy name is Adventure, or maybe MsAdventure. The bayberries on the north side of the house, which she had hoped would be a solid wall of green by now, were ragged and scraggly so she bought a bottle of insecticide at the garden store, hooked it up to the front hose, turned on the faucet, and sprayed everything sprayable. Maybe a few things too many, like the red-tipped fotina, because when Fio staggered back around the flastone path to turn the faucet off, she accidentally brushed the top of her head aganst the low-hanging branches of the fotina, which meant that, according to the instructions that came with the insecticide, she had to take a shower.

A shower? Fiorella take a shower? Sacrilege! Fio is strictly a bath girl. On the other hand, there was no way she was going to let insecticide swim around in the tub with her, so, for the very first time since college, she used the overhead.

Bayberries, do you know what Fiorella has gone through for your sake? Do you appreciate her sacrifice? Heal, damnit!
 

September--or, as we Spanish-language students call it, Septiembre--is the month of planting and possibility,  Fio and Husband are going to be looking for bluebonnet seeds, bayberry bushes, nandinas, and boxwoods this weekend. See ya at the nursery!

Outdoor Update

The past two days, Fiorella and Husband have been spending time out in the invigorating spring air chainsawing fallen tree limbs into fireplace lengths.  Fio's goal is to be totally self-sufficient for firewood next winter. Okay, she'll admit that Husband bought about half the wood they now have stored in those metal hoops out front, but she wants all augmentation to be from their own forest.
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Bayberriess, Fio loves you.  After YEARS of trying to screen the air conditioner system with supposedly hardy, deer-resistant bushes, Fio and Husband finally planted bayberries.  Three years in, and they're taller than the compressor units.  Another year and Fio will start trimming them so they'll fill in more.
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Fio finally gave in and hired a once-a-month yard man.  The only problem is that Fernando's English is limited, but your ever-resourceful  correspondent has found a solution.  She writes out what she wants to say, uses Google to translate it into Espanol, then reads it off to Fernando in the best Spanish accent she can muster  Que?
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Sonia is a serious-minded adult dog now.  No more running into the bushes when she goes outside with Fio and Husband.  She either sleeps on the porch or--well--dogs our footsteps.
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The sun is shining, the trees are whipping in the breeze, and everything is glistening with last night's rain.  Who could ask for better?