I've been romping around the garden a lot lately. This might look like a forest to you, and it is. But what is this, a forest for ants? Yes actually. These are my carrots. (Dear ants, kindly ignore my previous invitation and leave my carrots alone. You're far too bitey for my liking.)
My tomatoes are making huge strides. I was kind of terrified that they would all make it and I'd have to make enough sauce for a small Italian village, but the first two have rotted before ripening already. So we're good.
(I might be the only gardener who roots for tomato death.)
This corner is my whole edible garden, but the plot is five times this size. Maybe I'll fill it with more than weeds next year. My three basil plants are enormous, the oregano's coming along nicely, and the parsley is still piddly. Please note the tiny pink statue, which is awkward and terrifying and really good at keeping the rabbits from eating all my noms.
|She's the female version of St. Fiacre. Except she's not also the patron saint of Parisan cab drivers.|
My snapdragons in the front yard are ginormophone and super sassy, the way snapdragons should be.
Then there's this guy.
|Cindy the ostrich!|
After romping around the garden, I went to the zoo last weekend, where lots of critters stared us down.
I allowed them to stare right back. It was only fair.