Better Living Through Chemistry

Thank you to everyone who commented or called when I sent out the "Dying here" message. My spouse especially helped by bringing home heat-worthy takeout many nights in a row; my children by not being overly active and willing to pretend that lying on my bed being croaked to was fun.

And my doctor. What can I say about my doctor, except you gotta love a man who calls you back right away and in a Southern accent, no less, asks how you want to handle it. I repeated my symptoms, and he said, "You can either have a chest x-ray or we can try some antibiotics." I said I thought an x-ray was overkill, so he called in a prescription, et voila! Pills over the counter. The day I picked them up, I thought, "I am going to collapse right here in the hair tie aisle of this sleazy drugstore," but I did not.

And today? Today I am still stuffy but I feel great in comparison to the wreck I have been. I even burned dinner! See? Me, back in the saddle.

Got Thing 1's hair cut again and forgot to call the chi chi salon about MY hair. It's got to be cut. And soon. But hey, no pictures, because I forgot to call the camera repair shop. Maybe tomorrow.

So even though I am still coughing up what looks like alien life forms -- I tell you, I am class embodied -- I feel good enough to knit.

Did I:
1) finish the last watermelon hat?
2) finish the orange wool vest?
3) finish any sock currently on needles?
4) finish Thing 1's tank top to match the other two?
5) cast on for something completely new?

That's right! I am winging a little nothin' of a pattern but I'm having fun. And I have done a couple of rows of socks and I might actually start Thing 1's top soon. The weather seems to have backed down a bit, so that along with the amazing return of my will to live helps on the knitting front.

The only fly in my rosy ointment right now is the garden and all things garden-y. The things that are ripe are pumping out produce in an alarming fashion. Tomatoes, zucchini, carrots, beans, cucumbers, pumpkin, parseley (except the one plant hosting a beautiful stripey caterpillar which is now all stems), and peppers are booming. What do I see when I go out, though?

I see the deficiencies in the watering system. I see the Bermuda grass carpeting the yard, and the hours of work that represents. I see the unpicked beans growing woody, and I see the open and unused square feet. Yeah, yeah, I know. Mr. Square Foot says not to start with too large a garden. But I blame the watering and the sandy soil. And the heat, my goodness the heat.

So my Bad Inner Gardener says, "Don't worry about succession planting. Rip it all out when you've had enough tomatoes. Go talk to the nice folk at Orchard Supply about watering systems so you don't have to deal with the drippy sprayer. So you miss a month of vegetables? Who cares?"

And that's probably true. But I'll spend a couple more months or so dithering, I think, just for the fun of it. And the tomatoes that are ripe so far are just cherries. I wonder if the skunk/raccoon/squirrel squad is eating the big ones, or if they're just a little late. I'm going to hope for the latter and plan for next year.

And by then, maybe I'll be able to take pictures.