We are nearly as wilted by the heat as this basket of weeds which we removed from the pasture Tuesday morning. Although J. has "bush-hogged" the acreage, he decided we should spot weed the toxic jimson weed. I am the official locator, then J. uses a viciously sharpened shovel to root out the plants.
This battered thermometer was hanging in the carport when we bought the place.
I'm not sure if it is comforting to watch the needle move past the 90 degree F. mark each day.
The "natives" are telling us that there has not been such an intensely hot summer in local memory.
A number of us had a group grumble after chuch this week regarding the pitiable condition of our gardens.
It is not, we agreed, a good year for tomatoes.
The scrape and hum of these creatures is constant, a metallic rasping that hangs in the thick air.
I have encountered toads of varying sizes while working in the garden and near the house.
During yesterdays afternoon rain I found this one chinning itself on the edge of this large flower pot. A rosemary in a smaller pot usually resides here. I removed the rosemary the better to view the toadlet.
Pebbles seems to take the heat well. Keeping flies away from her face is a problem.
Most days she wears her fly hood. She is very interested in everything that we do around the dooryard or in her pasture.
Maybe this small green insect is the katydid?
This half-grown bunny bounced out of the catnip patch and dithered dementedly before disappearing into the hydrangeas.
The cats have spells of lethargy in spite of the air conditioning.
They rouse to oversee our doings.