Another Ramble

 Can you guess what was going on in this very poorly lit photo? 

Here's a hint.

Another hint- my porch smells distinctly of garlic. 

I pulled all the bulbs this afternoon and weeded out the patch where they'd been. All of the zinnias in that picture were volunteers which have been reseeding on their own for several years now. I am not happy with the garlic at all. It appears that hardly any of it made cloves and that just ain't right. But there was no use leaving it in the ground any longer as the stems were falling over, indicating that there was no more growing to be done. 
I swear. I have been gardening since about 1977 and at this point, I feel like I have forgotten more about what I've learned than most people will ever know about gardening. Let me be more precise:

I do not know shit. 

Well, I do know how to grow some green beans! But that's just because I discovered the right kind to grow here and all I have to do is plant them and make sure they get enough water and give them something to make their vines on. 

Tomorrow I will deal with the garlic in that it needs to cry and cure. You can see a few potatoes in that bottom picture too. Those are the ones that did not get pissed on. About three dollars worth in today's market, I would say. We ate some last night and they were good. 

I always braid my garlic and hang it up to dry and keep but our friend Tom who specializes in growing garlic, snips his stems and dries them on a rack. I think I'm going to try that this year. There are literally hundreds of bulbs in that garbage bag, some of them no bigger than a marble, the largest almost the size of grocery store garlic. 

Sigh.

Well, the blossoms are pretty. 

I went to town today before I got down in the dirt. I had to shop at Costco and Publix, of course, and because it was lunchtime when I was there, I took myself to The Wharf and ate some shrimp and read some of a New Yorker magazine. I truly enjoyed that. I saw Brenda at Costco but only briefly as she was quite busy. It wasn't a very exciting trip to town but that's fine. I also stopped at the library to return a book and I picked up two more. One of my favorite things about the library is that there are always mamas and children there and I wish I could ask the moms if I could read their kids a book but that might seem creepy. I don't know. It sure would make me happy. 

I tried some different knee pads today when I was in the garden and working on my knees. They belonged to Tom but he's not doing any kneeling in the garden these days due to having some major physical issues. They look more like smallish bike helmets than what you'd think of as knee pads and the strap on these did not bother me at all. It's like having a gel cushion that moves around with me and I do believe they may change my life. But dear god, I look a sight when I'm wearing them. 
First off, when I'm in the garden or doing yard work, I have one specific pair of overalls that I wear because I don't really like them that much but they work fine for doing...work. Right now the hardware on the right strap is broken and I haven't fixed that so the strap is attached with an old fashioned diaper pin with a blue plastic bear head on it but that's the least of it. I am just so age-worn in both skin and musculature, shape, size, and overall appearance. Secondly, I am filthy. And I wear Crocs. The ugly ones. And a hat. An ugly one. And I sweat so much that it looks like someone is spraying me with a hose. 

I wish. 
The sweat literally falls off my face onto my glasses and then I can't really see. 

So put all of that together and then add these bad boys to the overall look...

And let's just say that a thousand milk shakes would not bring all the boys to my yard. 
Or any of the boys for that matter. 

But fuck it. I love being on my knees in the garden and in the yard and whatever it takes to make that possible is what I'm going to do. 

Here's a comic from the paper today that for whatever reason made me laugh. 

I love Pickles. 

To me it captures the absurdity of aging both as an individual and as part of a couple with great tenderness. 

And speaking of absurd- if you haven't watched the video of the interview that the Orange Intestine did with Fox News reporter Bret Baier about the classified documents he was keeping at Mar-A-Lago in various places such as a bathroom (hey! it had a chandelier in it!), you should google it and watch. He is now claiming that he could not return the boxes of classified documents because they had all sorts of personal stuff "interspersed" in them. Like golf shirts. Pants, hats, shoes. And he had to remove those things before he returned the boxes and you know! He was very busy! 

Does anyone really believe this? 
I doubt the judge will. 
His lawyers must be tossing down doubles of cheap Scotch at the rate of four a minute. 

I was, however, impressed with his use of the word "interspersed." 

Ay-yi-yi. 

I have to go make supper. 

True love...Ms. Moon

P.S. Here's a picture for Liz at Field and Fen. 

My very tiny Roseland (I think) snake plant. It's barely three inches tall and yet, is one of my prides and joy.