IT’S ALL FERBLUNJIT


You, me, the weather, the garden, Dr. Advice, even Charliedog, we’re all confused. Mainly the weather and the garden today. I went outside and picked a few figs and some oranges for juice, and a flight of geese flew by on their way south or wherever they go. The weatherman says it’s too early to depart, as more hot weather is coming up this week. (They obviously don’t read the weather report.

I’m confused because I don’t know what to wear anymore. I wore a sweater for two days and today I am back in whatever. I like Fall and winter clothes the best, because I don’t like investing in summer stuff I probably won’t wear anyway, and besides I have a drawer full of sweaters dating back to college days.

Some of the trees are beginning to change into their Fall colors or drop a few leaves to rake up, yet the fig tree threatens to join us in the family room. Branches seem to reach out further each day trying to see what we do in there. Other plants like the pelargonium get bigger and bigger and will need cutting back again soon. The summer annuals are finished and look dismal and bare. A dichotomy of seasons right in the back yard.


Spring/Summer Garden w/c kayti Sweetland Rasmussen

I have to give it to the weathermen though. Not too long ago their predictions stretched over a mere 2-3 days, while today they run on into the following week. Not long ago a local weatherman was fired for refusing to cast a prediction further than 3 days.

Dr. Advice reminded me that back in 1944 when the Allies planned the invasion of Normandy, it was actually planned for June 5, and men were loaded onto the landing craft ready to go. However, a storm came up and the Channel was a washing machine, so it did not come about until the following day, June 6. Another reason to be thankful for modern science.

Dr. Advice really isn’t confused. he arises early each morning knowing exactly what he will be doing the entire day, and goes about haphazardly getting it done. While I dibble and dabble around and finally zero in on what absolutely cannot be postponed.

Charlie is a Jack Russell Terrier, so we know automatically that he is confused. What about you, are you confused enough by now?

I like to think I come from a determined gene pool.