My phone doesn't take good garden pictures, a lack of either pixels or my own impatient ability to focus, the blackberries taking over, but making me happy as a clam.
I dubbed Paloma to be the Produce Manager as she dearly loves to harvest buckets of food while I'd truly rather weed. She's fried me up a ton of yellow squash and onions in olive oil with peppers, I'd even eaten them for breakfast this morning. A big old salad is calling me out for lunch.
Jonathan glowering darkly, mad at the world over nothing.
I missed my early morning window of opportunity to run out into the gardens before the sun rose high in the sky to fry everyone in its path, but since we have an afternoon full of obligations, it's just as well that I remain inside working and obviously taking a couple of computer breaks. Too much housework drudgery puts me in an ill-tempered mood.
Maybe I'll just read a spell as its a lazy day and no ones acting up at all.
Or did I just jinx the propect?
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