Little sweet tomatoes, getting ready to pop them in my mouth! Yum! 
"It's difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato." ~ Lewis Grizzard
Storms broke out dead tree tops and littered the yard with limbs and leaves. Pinecones pelted the metal sunroom roof, sounding more like giant hailstones and the wind caught up anything that was not tied down. The grow box with these tiny tomatoes bowed to the power of the wind and rolled to the edge of the deck, then toppled over and down the steps losing a bit of dirt, several large branches and scattering tiny green tomatoes all over the stone patio. I repaired the damage as best possible: replacing the dirt and the soil cover, tying up the vines and relocating the box to be sheltered from future winds.
These are the survivors -- of the storm and the marauding squirrel bandits -- and they are beginning to ripen. At first, it was slow... one a day for a week.. but now I get a handful a day. Some are red and others orange... but all are tasty and juicy and squirt yummy goodness all in your mouth. I get to eat these at least... Mom has become enamored with the cucumbers and we really need ten vines to keep up with her passion. So far, the birds have left them alone and the squirrels are not brave enough to come directly up to the boxes as they are so close to the door. Now we will simply have to see how long they will produce.
No matter how you say it... tomatoes are one of summer's great joys.
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Lobelia erinus (Blue Cascade) & Calibrachoa hybrid (Yellow) "To analyze the charms of flowers is like dissecting music; it is one of those things which it is far better to enjoy, than to attempt to fully understand." ~ Henry T. Tuckerman.
I have never been a real fan of annuals; those flowers that do not survive the cooler zones of winter. I've never loved the cycle that the yard guy does in the front beds... spring brings the impatiens or vincas and fall brings the pansies. For one thing, the impatiens don't really love the sun that much and they don't seem to spread well. In Mississippi, our house had quite a few trees which made growing a good lawn a problem (St. Augustine was almost the only grass to grow under those pines), but the impatiens grew and spread, sometimes to three feet tall and a few plants would fill an entire square bed, hiding the boxwoods. Not here. They don't really start filling out -- if they survive the heat and my antipathy towards them -- until September or October when it finally begins to cool off and at their height of blooming, the yard guy comes along and rudely pulls them up. He replaces them with pansies. Now, I love pansies much more than the impatiens; still, while pansies may bloom her in winter, they are wimpy. They really don't like the cold that comes with snow and spend much of the winter looking wilted or frost bit. It really is the spring... usually here this includes late February and March, perhaps into April... where they are at their best. I have managed to nurse a few along in a pot on the deck, but now in June, even these are on their last leg and wobbling. In the front beds, the pansies only start looking really good and trying to spread when March gets here. And again, at the height of their beauty, they are snatched up and replaced in May. The endless cycle. It seems wrong. And so this is why I seldom plant annuals... at least knowingly.
When Stephen was here, he found this hanging basket of bright yellow million bells (I think a petunia relative), blue lobelia and (not pictured) red flowers (the name escapes me.. this happens more and more with each passing year.. though I doubt I ever knew the name of the red flowers). They are all annuals and won't make it until next summer, but I have to admit they are beautiful. Downside... must be watered every day and I mean, everyday. You cannot be two hours late before they start to wilt. It must be something about the planter they are in because I have a homemade basket of million bells and petunias that is not this sensitive.
I love to see the plants and don't mind pruning back or deadheading (except tickweed which is tedious), but I really like to plant only once and then watch as the little shoots and stems poke through the ground in spring again. I tend to look like a giant mudball when planting, not my favorite thing to be. So I tend to plant perennials. However, this year the monarch and black swallowtail have been slower to show up and my fennel is six feet tall, just waiting for some caterpillars and the milkweed overfloweth and the bees of all types are having orgies in the bee balm and lavender and agastache. So where are they? On the annuals. On this plant.
Black Swallowtail with red... verbena?
Perhaps I SHOULD plant a few more annuals... sigh.
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Mellow Yellow Monday
Ruby Tuesday
Clockwise from top left: Tokyo, Las Vegas, Brooklyn, and Grand Canary Islands.
(Click pictures to enlarge)“One of the sad signs of our times is that we have demonized those who produce, subsidized those who refuse to produce, and canonized those who complain.” ~Thomas Sowell (American Writer and Economist, b.1930)
I have a photo of a group of Canada geese standing on the shore of a local lake next to a sign that reads... "NO SWIMMING". It is as if they wonder... "Does this mean me?" These signs are from around the world.. some three dimensional, some profound and some simply different. Since I don't travel much these days, those from overseas were taken by my brother. The first, from Tokyo shows businessmen and women waiting to cross the street, although I must admit that I wondered if they were male models posing... then again... no, no way.. waiting to cross the street. All of them in black suits or skirts, black jackets or dark gray coats and white shirts; uniform in nature... conforming....expected. But the huge red LOVE sign in the background POPS off the page and gives it a strange twist (which is why I wondered if there was a photo shoot going on for a magazine cover or something). The "LOVE" also feeds into the next sign... M&M's. I do so love M&M's, either plain or with almonds (peanuts are ok but almonds are heavenly). The crazy bright colors and the three dimensional look of the lovable and sweet (in more ways than one) characters make me want to walk right into the store and buy all the M&M's my suitcase can hold. This sign would stand out here at home, but in Las Vegas... everything is gaudy and everything is brightly colored and over-the-top. You can see the Coca-Cola store next door with its oversized bottle... anyway... I love M&M's.
The next sign is one of several on the outer walls of the Brooklyn Public Library, profound and true. Even in these days of instant downloads of Kindle books, I still like to walk through the stacked shelves of the library; to smell the pages of the books and see the worn page edges. If I can check it out from the library for free, I won't buy the book to download. In any form, electronic or hardcover... books are definitely the inheritance of generations.
I thought the final sign in this group was cute... it reads "pedestrian zone".. so someone painted pedestrians on the wall behind the sign. In doing so, the artist fulfilled the intent of the sign... now it IS a pedestrian zone!
My brother is the central figure in this opera sign.
However, the daughter of the chief jailer, falls in love with Fidelio (not knowing that he is really Leonore) and rebuffs another young assistant who is mad for her. The governor tries to get the chief jailor to kill Florestan when he discovers that a high minister in the government is on his way to inspect the prison. The minister, Florestans close friend, will surely find him and the governor will be in real trouble. The chief jailer refuses, so the governor goes to do the murderous deed himself... the minister is within sight on the road. Lenore as Fidelio is in the dungeon with her husband and flings herself between the governor and her bound husband. She reveals herself and the pistol she has smuggled in; but as she prepares to shoot the governor or die trying to save her husband, the trumpet sounds... the minister is here... Florestan is saved! Leonore releases her husband and all is well. Oh... the chief jailer's daughter is a bit rattled that Fidelio was actually Leonore, but she quickly gets over it when the young man who is mad for her again professes his love and she accepts. It's one of those "happily ever after" endings... well, except for the evil governor... one that is not often seen in opera. In fact, this is one of the few parts my brother plays that does NOT die in the end.
While Stephen was still singing as a house tenor in Linz, Austria, they did a production of "Peter Grimes". Opera is sung in the language it is written in and this was written in English. He plays a rustic fisherman and of course, dies in the end. For the pre-opera advertising, they shot photos of him in his costume... a thick sweater, jeans and old fisherman hat.. with thick nets. The ocean was in the background and he was kneeling on the sand. This was the opera poster shot and they made it into a large billboard as well. He told me it was always disconcerting to walk down that street and look up to see a multiple times life size picture of himself. Life-size, he is big and imposing. The billboard.....really scary.
Carmi is collecting "signs" this week... I know he is going to have a lot of great ones. Actually, when I read what he wants over there... it really isn't this. I probably SHOULD have posted the geese with the "no swimming" sign. Oh, well. I am this far into it so I am just going to go with it... just won't link it over there. This is why one should ALWAYS read the instructions AND any fine print. However, the Saturday Photo Hunt, which I missed of course is on "informative". I thought this meant an informative post.. and this is one, in a way. But signs also are very informative.. at least sometimes. So, better late than never... on to the Photo Hunt.
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Saturday Photo Hunt ~ "Informative"
A small family of Canada geese out for a swim. (Virginia Beach) "Everywhere water is a thing of beauty, gleaming in the dewdrops; singing in the summer rain; shining in the ice-gems till the leaves all seem to turn to living jewels; spreading a golden veil over the setting sun; or a white gauze around the midnight moon." ~ John Ballantine Gough, A Glass of Water
We have a huge population of Canada geese, many of whom refuse to migrate south in the winter or north in the spring. It is often funny to see them in their migration "V" flying northwest in the fall. I often want to yell up at them, "Hey, guys, that is the WRONG WAY!"; but then they glide gracefully in a downward spiraling arch and land in the large pond behind the neighbor's house. Oh... just moving from one pond to another, I see.
I do believe that these (probably considered "native" by now) geese are the first to have families in the spring. Ours have developed a great community plan; the young goslings are shipped off to boarding school, at least for the daytime hours. Approximately ten to sixteen little fluff balls are shepherded by three or four adults and the day is full of lessons to be learned. They are taught to swim... in a long line with one adult at the head and one bringing up the rear and at least one to the side, to catch any strays. More importantly, they are taught to cross the road. I do believe that the first step is... start slowly but resolutely, the cars will stop; though the second must be...don't try this at night. More than once this spring, I had to come to a complete stop as the goose grade school practiced their crossing (as we all know, practice makes perfect). One adult stood on the destination golf course grass gathering the goslings around that had already navigated the street. One waited on the median to make sure everyone was in a line and on the march and a third was the traffic guard, standing right in the middle of the road. The babies hopped (fell) off the curb into the road and started their trek across. One was mesmerized by a rock in the road and stopped to investigate, causing a pile up behind. Adult guard quacked... baby ignored... adult walked over, bent his neck down and honked and nudged the little one along, flapping his wings as he chased the baby to the other side. This seemed to bring all the others back into order and the rest knew better than to cross this crossing guard again. The biggest obstacle is the curb on the far side as, yet unable to fly, they must jump their height to get back up to the grass. Many took several attempts before success. I have always wonder if these "teachers" send their pupils back to their parents at the end of the day.
This family was seen swimming in one of the inlets along the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia Beach. It was late May and most of the other resident goslings had almost grown to the size of their parents. Perhaps, this family actually migrated from the south or maybe the later goslings don't get to go to kindergarten and are home schooled instead. I wonder.
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Carmi's Theme ~ "family"
World Bird Wednesday
Watery Wednesday
Salvia x microphylla 'Hot Lips'... a changeable diva!"If one consults enough herbals...every sickness known to humanity will be listed as being cured by sage." ~ Varro Taylor, Ph.D. (herb expert)
We already had a large pot with a bush sage planted and growing and showing off the bright red blooms that are so irresistible to hummingbirds; but this little gem was too gorgeous to pass up. I nestled it between the milkweed and the coneflowers and it loves the area. When first planted, the little flowers were totally red; but as the days grew hot, the flowers changed color....
From a deep crimson red all over......
.....to a fabulous stripe of red against a background of pure white... very 'Hot Lips' indeed. According to several sources, the flowers may also be all white -- pure as the winter snow-- if you want to believe such a saucy flower can do so. I am going to try and collect some of the tiny seed and see what I can do with it. For now, the flowers are going strong and the hummingbirds have been dining, as have the bees and a few butterflies.
This is a variety of sage, though not the typical herb used in cooking. Still, when you crush a couple of leaves together or break off a spent flower stem, the aroma of pungent sage is left on your fingers and in the air. Heavenly.
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Ruby Tuesday
