It’s a grey day here, a mizzle of drizzle. But the garden is lush. Next time the sun comes out, I’ll take some photos.
We lost our rosemary bush earlier this month so we’re going to try grow some in pots on the back deck, grow them until they’re strong enough to transplant for winter. Here’s how it used to look:
Anyway, seeing as we’re growing rosemary, ah, what the hell, we’re going to go whole hog with perbs again. Though not basil–we’ve got plenty of those in the kerbian Aerogarden. I’d planned to do flowers this summer but now we have a new fence to cover:
So in a week or so we’ll be planting clematis and honeysuckle–we’ll soon have plenty of flowers out there.
Meanwhile, Kelley’s latest piece for the Clarion West Write-a-Thon is up. This one has teeth:
Madeline is driving to her lover, and even now, Maddy loves to drive. Not the motorway parking lot, not the commuter creep; certainly not all those red lights. Red is for stop. Driving is for go go go.
She is driving to Lizzie. She has a bottle of water and a go-cup of coffee in the holder. She’s jacked on the starch of road food and the fear that her soul connection to a woman 500 miles away is fraying fast, and all she can do is drive. Give herself to the road, to the big blue hand of day, the huge dark mouth of night, the machine and the music, the journey and the destination. [more]