A Good Mow Job

I mow paths in and out and behind the row of daylilies under the rickety split rail fence tied together with duct tape and rusty wire. One day. That is about it up there. The roadside vegetable garden itself won't get cut down until February most likely.

I suppose I could make an effort with a little editing to grow some fine produce. I have a flat of cucumber, melon and squash ready to plant, but every time I planted something the sky proceeded to drown them. Plus all kinds of fun things are coming up in the feral vegetable garden. Tough decisions are needed and I am not in the mood.

I don't have to think about a good mow job anymore. It always makes the garden feel better.

There is no more mourning for the whacked. The Lush will provide more than enough of the sacrificed.

All my troubles melt away with the scent of 'Lemon Drop'

The last azalea on the mountain to bloom.

Summer is here.

After a good mow job the Great Lawn takes center stage.

The lure to drag you in unknowing to the wilderness primeval.