It seems misdirected to be so meteorology-focused, but apparently it can't be helped, especially when it's mid-June and raining like the depths of November. My tomato plants are just managing to stay alive, anemic as they are. P. insists on wearing short sleeves and refuses to put on a coat. Fool! (But he's my fool.) Joannie at Poe-Query insists that it's like this every year and that we all suffer from insufficient memories. She may have a point, but I would like to assert that this year we are enduring a greater volume of vertical H2O than usual.
The yard maintenance men raked out all my nasturtium seedlings on the edges of the rose bed. Grrrr & hiss.
A neighbor commented that his dog likes to chase my rabbits. My rabbits? Those adorable scrawny feral scruffs would make a nice stew if perhaps I fed them more of my Italian parsley or grew, oh, maybe some carrots and lettuces just for them. Isn't this why I garden?