The Head Gardener is not in the best of moods so this week's installment of TTGG is a brief one. When she saw earlier today that the rain promised to her corner of Katy was heading for Louisiana instead, she began to pout. Even a new pair of shoes and dinner out failed to console her much. Since she's at her wits' end at Wit's End, it's thought best that she retire to her corner and do a little light reading and maybe watch some TV ... perhaps Lt. Provenza will do something on THE CLOSER tonight to improve her mood. That's a mighty big perhaps, though, so we're hedging our bets and providing her with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc to sip while she sits.
Before she goes, she wishes to share the pictures she took this morning. This is the usual view: thank heavens for Otto Linne and Laura Bush, without whom the view would be bleak indeed.
That rock wall in the picture below was an impromptu effort brought on by the need to move the rocks left in the path by the stonemasons. They removed a rock edging along the sidewalk in order to put down the flagstone, and placed those rocks in the checkerboard path that meanders between beds. The HG's original plan for the back included stacked stone/rock borders but budgetary constraints rendered that impractical at the time. One would think that the record-breaking temperatures we've been enduring here would discourage the HG from rocking out. One would be wrong, as evidenced below. The HG rather likes the effect of this low stacked wall/edging. She will not be constructing more such walls until cooler weather, however.
St. Fiacre can't believe his eyes: are those newly purchased plants in those black plastic pots below him? What can the Head Gardener be thinking??????????? (Her answer: "no comment").
Moss Pink Verbena, Profusion Apricot Zinnia, and a Mexican Feather Grass don't mind the heat.
This handsome amphibian blends in with his surroundings pretty well ... he's one of several such fine fellows (dis)appearing nightly to serenade the residents of Wit's End.
And now, if you'll excuse me, the Head Gardener best be provided with the aforementioned glass of wine lest she turn surly.