Larkspurs in the vegie patch. They attract bees, and look beautiful, but some had to go as they were falling on my new tomato bushes. They are wonderful inside now.
Yesterday was hot and extremely windy; not ideal or idyllic conditions for gardening, but the work had to be done. Donning a long-sleeved work shirt, my sturdy boots, a head scarf - my sun hat would have blown off - and plenty of sunblock, I set to.
The green waste bins are now over-stuffed; I need dad to come and take some of it away. I have the beginning of a callus on the inside of my right thumb, from using my secateurs so much. I got scratches, dust in my eys, and very sweaty.
I got tired, satisfied by the progress and sense of order restored, but also upset and frustrated by the savage effects of the past few days' extraordinarily high temperatures and unrelenting northerly winds. By the savoy cabbages, which were once so promising but failed - of six in the ground, only one (sort of) came to any good. Gardening is life and death, joy and disappointment.
And then, amidst the dry soil and weeds and dying seed heads and dessicated pea bushes and insect-ravaged cabbages, were moments of beauty and possibility. Which is why we keep gardening.
Scarlet runner beans snaking up the nearby hollyhocks for support - I love the curly tendril going forth!