I think I mowed the grass once back in June. Then I maybe mowed the taller, more resilient weeds in July. Now, mid-August, I just don’t care. And I think if I subject the brown crackly stuff that used to be my lawn to a mower, I’ll be reenacting the Worst Hard Times (dustbowl) right here in Buffalo.
Lost the cucs. Potatoes barely holding on. Tomatoes are producing by sheer force of the WideEyedSpouse’s will and liberal use of the hose. The avocado tree has a few leaves left. The pear trees produced nothing. (But then, they never have except that one pear the first year, which a squirrel ate right in front of me. A**hat squirrel.) The shaded coffee trees are weird, one is flourishing (no beans yet, still young) and the other is withered and weak. I think the healthy one is stealing the soul of the poorly one. Should make for interesting coffee someday. I’ll call it SoulStealer. Buffalo SoulStealer. It’ll make you feel awake and strong but you’ll have questionable moral grounding for a few hours.
But I’ll tell you what, I’ve got two limes. Count ‘em. Two. First time ever those little white blossoms on this wee shrubby, scraggly thing of a lime plant ever turned into something. I’m including images for proof. See, there below?
We’ve been warned that the drought has the city rats mad with thirst and hunger. Rumor has it that they are pillaging gardens and yards. Evidently they really like tomatoes and dog poop. Sorta makes a person have a short mental wander into what might be similarly good about tomatoes and dog poop.
I fully expect that a lime stealing rat will come for these precious fruits soon. If that happens, I assure you friends, the WideEyed-Buffalo-SoulStealer-Funk will have her revenge. And it won’t be fair or nice or decent.
Maybe it’ll rain again someday.