Nature. Nature. Nature.
Turns the Middling City into a big reheated miasma of flora.
The started seedlings are totally sprouting, the baby nasturtia reaching like mad with their tiny, hand-shaped leaves and I worried this AM that they might get leggy before it's their time to hit the soil. So therefore I'm holding back on starting the tobacco plants, this year's big garden theme.
Have to get a new metal trellis for the second of the honeysuckle as it's pulled down the former and have to also get a new jolly roger as the one from Liz has finally been shredded to bits, only its skull remaining with bits of black fabric around it. I'm sure the Holy Eucharistic Rock Band as well as those at Bleak Bakery are thrilled to see that I've changed my ways and have removed what they viewed as a harbinger of death flag. Jack of Bleak Bakery told me so once, in his Yogi Bear voice... how much he loathed the jolly roger as, you know, in this world flags are to be either ol' glory or something really barfy suburban like a whimsy-rich drapeau showing something really really fluffy.
Editrix Sue just asked me to shoot a bunch of things, amongst them a doctor (of bodies, not of the high-falutin' mind sort) who engages in limb-risking drag racing. Neato. As well as annual Oozefest, the event where volleyball merges with a field of mud.
So it's the tenth anniversary of the OK City bombing of Murrow Building and watched part of the ceremoniousness with Kennedy today as we worked out... Clinton the highlight for me, speaking poetically of the American Oak that made it through the trauma. Thoughts meandered over to this week's school readings about murder and just shot off a post about trees, hanging trees, the remaining hanging tree at Washington Square Park in the Shiney Apple in the NW quadrant, an elm that stands still.
Tree of Life. Tree of Wisdom.
Me and Ro's golden tree about my neck.

Tree Love.