Oak-y dokey

It's been downright soggy here and the whole darned yard is basically now a mushroom farm. There are a lot of different small varieties and also these three different huge fungi all on the same tree.

We had carpenter ants on the same huge tripartite oak in early September, and Ryan from SavATree reassured me that it's not necessarily a sign of decay. However, he said to keep an eye on this cleft between two of the trunks. If it gets bigger, we need to worry. (Meanwhile, being me, I guess I'll just worry that it will get bigger.)

Barely scratching the surface

"I'll get started on the bulbs today!" was what I told myself, and then I decided to place a stepping stone, and by the time I'd planted a measly two bulbs (the one-turned-into-two allium from the back plot, transplanted) it was lunchtime and darned if there aren't still FORTY-SIX MORE BULBS to plant on top of all the other carp on my to-do list.

Anyway this is where the first two are. They're just uphill of the delphinium and south of the new stepping stone.

And I saw a new kind of butterfly, American Lady, on our sad-looking end-of-season zinnias:

Our house in the middle of our street

Divine fragrance and displaced digitalis

I don't know what this shrub is, by the YMCA, but it bloomed for about a week and smelled AMAZING.

Sep. 12

In anticipation of the back yard being redone (still no timeline), I transplanted my foxgloves to the front.

Confused flora

The magnolia is blooming....again.

The accidental tomatoes of wrath

August 15: A stem. Some bits of green skin. A blob of juice. LEFT ON MY FRONT STEPS, like a cruel taunt. I am growing the accidental tomatoes of wrath.

August 16: Tonight we ate what may well end up constituting the season's entire accidental tomato crop: one single cherry tomato, plucked when still orange and ripened on a window sill, then cut into three meager servings.

August 17: This photo is not a deep fake. It is an actual squirrel eating one of my actual unripened accidental tomatoes. I've seen things, man. I've seen things.

Seriously, though, it is working out to pick them as they just start to turn orange, and then let them ripen on a window sill. I'll probably get the equivalent of a whopping pint of tomatoes that way, by season's end.

At least the front yard looks nice.

Crazy tomato lady

This anemone (front right, when you're facing the house)  is lovely.

My crepe myrtle is also lovely, and it's a shame I find this color too red. Interestingly, the smaller one, closer to the house, scarcely bloomed this year.

Delightful delphinium, with adorable anemone in background.

The lilac has started its second bloom of the year [and update from early October: still blooming! Not nearly as prolific as spring though.]

The state of zinnias and tomatoes. I know what you are thinking: what are those shiny bits? Our neighbor heard tin foil repels squirrels. What do I have to lose, I figure?

A few monarch butterflies have visited the zinnias.

I will acknowledge that the tin foil bits make my tomatoes look like they've visited the salon for some highlights. But if it keeps them safe, it's all worth it.

And hark! What's that we see tucked in there? Woohoo!