Left Cheryl's demi-sunny garden mere moments ago sufficiently caffeinated and such. She is en route with Liz to a rally for Garden Walk. Would Yours Truly invite the general public to meander through my garden, if it were in a less-industrialized neck of the woods. I think not.
May hop into Artvoice's pro bono Middling City showcase street fest a bit later as Medeski Martin and Wood are playing and Kunji and Allen just phoned to see if I'd be stopping by her mehendi boof where she imprints (usually) ladies with time-honoured henna paste leaving behind designs nouveau arte and whimsical. I usually mehendi myself at her stand, squeezing out a semi artful blob that lasts for about a week. Speaking of body markings shot a bike race yesterday and spotted a guy with a hideous photo-realist tattoo of what I assumed was his beloved and departed german shepherd, regaling most of his shoulder.
The Middling City feels more humid than the Shiney Apple and I am enjoying the space of it all until mid-week when I jet back to school for a few seminars - will be showing and telling new work on Wednesday to the shrink et al.
Seedlings replanted at Kennedy's warble out of the ground, and mine own is jam-packed with the regular perennials and Extra excitedly tells me how happy he is that the cat mint proliferates. At least twice during the summer I spot him lolling amonst its fragrant leaves, getting all wacked out and when he notes I'm watching his debauchery he stares in wide-eyed panic and splits.
Time to water the cat mint et al.

Minty fresh love.