Doesn't feel like the end of summer. Usually by about mid-August, things are cooler and people are thinking more about shopping for back to school than going to the beach. Not this year. Still in full beach bloom, if you can call it that. Hot, and buggy (as I scratch my latest mosquito bite), and not at all evocative of fall and changing colors and falling leaves.
Rats. I always kind of like the end of August because it is a preview of fall. But no. Not this time around.
So I managed to find another flat of hens and chicks, which are sitting on the front yard waiting for me to be comfortable enough in the temperature to get out and install them. Somewhere along the way I decided to do a lot of succulents. Maybe because some of them have spikes, to keep people away, and maybe just because I like succulents, they do tend to take care of themselves, and they have a way of spreading out and taking over areas. Very nice feature for my front slopey parts of the garden, where I'm afraid I'll slide down the hill when I try to dig or weed or anything.
What also helped was Kaylee (or someone else perhaps) knocking a piece or two off my potted prickly pears (nopales), so I had to find a spot in the ground to install those. They have joined some bulbs I didn't know were there in the front slopey.
The slopeys are two rather steeply pitched sections of the front yard, leading down to the sidewalk. The fronts of these patches are populated by humongous sea grass type things, which when left unattended create a sharpish jungle to wade thru in getting up the steps to the front door. I suppose if I left them to their own devices, at some point noone would be able to get up the walk. Might keep the postal people away, I guess. I could come and go thru the garage.
Something I have noticed here that is pleasant. You can leave things like flats of plants sitting on the front yard, and noone comes up and steals them. Unlike the place I lived before this.
Speaking of which, I hear that Pablo's oceanfront girlfriend, Heidi, has been walking by the old place, looking for him. Love can be tough when you're a dog. She's a Yorkie.
I'm meandering. I'd better go check on the laundry, and stop the random thoughts from spilling out here. Ciao!
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