A Brief Interlude In the Yard at Casa de Crazy

(AKA:  Somebody Has To Feed the Mosquitoes)

I had a rare opportunity for some solo time this morning, as Sprout was deeply asleep when I got up and didn't even twitch when I rescued my arm out from under her head.  Yes, she sleeps with me sometimes, but these days it's only in the morning for a sort of prolonged cuddle.

I was turning on the fish tank light in the sun room when I noticed a puddle of cat pee.  Don't all the best stories start out with a puddle of cat pee?  Lately I feel like all of my stories start with a puddle of cat pee.

Anyway.

So I had to mop up the puddle of cat pee.  Say, I wonder how many times I will type "puddle of cat pee" in this post?  I'm not going to count.

Ahem.

Mopping up the puddle of cat pee (I'm on a mission, now) required fetching the mop from the back stairs where it languishes until I frantically fetch it forth in a dither because PUDDLE OF CAT PEE!!!

On fetching it hither, I chanced to look down in the yard and saw that the morning glories that I planted this past spring were blooming and was reminded that I wanted some photographs of them.  I mopped up the puddle of cat pee (it's like a refrain in my head, now), cleaned the mop and sent it back into exile, snagged my camera, and headed out.

I am, by the way, still trying to figure out all the functions on this camera.  Two years and I still mostly just kinda point, click, and hope for the best.

I planted the glories near the front stairs and in a pot near an old dead tree behind the house.

The vine by the front stairs isn't as hearty as they've been in years past, but given my rather neglectful style of gardening, I am happy to have even one bloom:

One of the blooms behind the house had a little visitor.  Can you see it?

The flowers are large-ish, about as big as my palm.  I have no reference photo, so, er, my palm is about as large as the top of a Chobani yogurt container.

I was hoping, when I planted them, that the back vines would climb the old dead tree but they were more inclined to sprawl on the ground.  Next year I will give them some guide strings and see how high they will go.  If, that is, the old dead tree is still there - it continues its slow, piecemeal shortening process with every good wind we have.  I haven't been fussed about cutting it because it falls away from the house, it anchors my clothes line, and I kinda dig seeing it continually change state.

See?  Old dead tree is nifty!

The Dogwood around the side of the house is in full berry.  I don't actually like this tree much - it's one of the pink blooming variety, and I prefer the white, but it was here when we bought the place and I am not going to cut it down just because I am not fond of it.  It's around the side and I don't have to look at it if I don't want, and once the flowers are gone we get along fine.

The Japanese Maple is preparing to set millions of helicopters loose on the yard.  Helicopters - that's what we called those seed doodads when I was a kid.  We also would break one in half, peel the bottom open, and stick it on our noses so we could pretend to be rhinoceroses.  Who need electronic games and smart phones?  No, I did not have a deprived childhood, why do you ask?

I had occasion a few days ago to be out in the yard, chatting with a fellow about lawn care, when I noticed we have some non-rent-paying residents (kinda like me, huh Mum?).

Can't see?  Here's a close up.  it is fantastic and when the denizens move on, I want it to hang from the center of my ceiling.  Perhaps as a light fixture.  Or, you know, not.

I was stalked joined on my little walk by the resident Kittens of Doom.  We have had a lot of loss in the outdoor cat population this year, but these four have hung in there.

Not a bad way to spend my morning, really.

How was yours?