The Hot Left

Sometime last night after 9:30 (that's when I took out the trash, including the broken stationary bike) the hot left.  I think the humid might have stayed, at least the windowsill weather center says it did, but it's waaaaay cooler, like 30 degrees cooler.  That's a big overnight change.

Speaking of the broken bike, I put it out there late with little hope that a junk picker would find it and take it away because someone had already glommed onto the desk chair at the curb around the corner so I thought the window of opportunity had closed, but when I got up this morning and opened the shade, IT WAS GONE.  Hooray!  It's like this under-civilization that runs parallel to our everyday lives, gleaning the castoffs and making something out of nothing.  Whatever is going on, fanciful ideas aside, I'm just glad I don't have to get it into the back of the van and cart it down to the waste yard and then wrassle it out.  If they can fix it, fine, if they can't, they get to junk it and it's off my plate.  *dusts hands*

Did you know that milkweed flowers smell sweet?  They do.  At least I think they do.  When I went over to take a picture this morning it smelled heavenly there and I can't see anything else blooming that'd smell good.  We've both seen Monarch butterflies this summer.  I'm so relieved as we didn't see any last year.  The coneflowers (echinacea) are going gangbusters and on the side of the house the Black-eyed Susans are getting ready to pop.  I was fast enough on the shutter to catch a bee collecting pollen on the spiderwort.  Seeing it made me realize that there aren't nearly as many bees around as there used to be.  I can't tell you how many times I got stung running barefoot as a kid.  I'd scrape out the stinger, spit in the dirt, make mud, and put it on the sting.  Made it feel better every time.  No really.  Look at how pink this Stargazer lily's throat is.  Isn't that gorgeous?  And the white ones are starting to open.  They really smell great.  I can't wait.

July 23--Georgia O'Keefe, From the Faraway, Nearby.  The skull lay behind a red stone boulder the size of a van, its rack of antlers bleached white in the desert sun.  Neria knelt in the dust studying the shape of the skull trying to identify the animal it came from.  She thought it was some kind of deer but none of the whitetails back home in the Midwest ever had racks like this one.  It was enough antlers for two deer.  She scraped away a bit more of the sandy soil and jumped back when a finger rolled away from her trowel in a shower of pebbles.

Eesh.  I think I watch too many CSI-type shows.  I get to meet an old high school friend for supper tonight.  I haven't seen her in probably 7 or 8 years.  It'll be fun to catch up.  I've already made sure to upload the latest LC photos onto my Kindle so I can show her off.  I'm off to work.  Toodles.
--Barbara