We had a late-night party at work (I expect that often sounds more fun than it is, though this was not an unpleasant evening by most accounts), so I didn’t actually get out of there until well past midnight…and then stopped in briefly at a friend’s house party, so my arrival at home was rather late and I really wasn’t up for posting at that particular hour.
I didn’t even get to watch much in the way of Olympic coverage yesterday, though I was finished with my shift in time to catch the medals ceremony for the US Swim Team, including wonder-aquaman Michael Phelps, who earned his eighth gold for these games, breaking Marc Spitz’ old record of seven at the Munich Games in 1972.
(thanks to Afod for IMing me in the office as the shift wound down to let me know of Phelps’ latest victory!)
Is it strange that I remember that? I think ’72 was the first time I watched the Olympics. I’d have been seven years old at the time. Of course, those games were marred by awful things, so perhaps that burned it in my young memory, as well. But I remember Mark Spitz’ poolside moments, too.
In an interesting bit of foreshadowing of Phelps’ Olympic glory perhaps (because it’s always easy to see the foreshadowing the next day), one of the sulphur cosmos plants – which had previously only been producing blooms in electric orange – began blooming in yellow…or maybe we should say, gold.
Any serious attempts to weed things out at this point would probably leave big patches of emptiness and cause instability for the plants that would remain, as everything has grown together into something larger than themselves.
Which is fine by me: between work and life there’s plenty to keep me occupied away from the business of obsessive garden tending. I’m afraid every August finds me leaving it to its own devices to some extent.
I have now harvested the first couple of Early Girl tomatoes, since they had finally come on with some nice color. I haven’t tasted them yet, though, so I’ll have to wait to give you the remainder of my review of them…and we’ll see if mine are any tastier than other garden bloggers’ reports.
Finally, I’ll deflect your attention away from the garden for a moment, to show off my African violet, which is merrily blooming its little head off by my bedroom window.