Am I the only one who is chomp fodder for spiders and mosquitoes this summer? Bob has bought me an insect spray but the little critters get to me even before I have finished wetting myself down. Meanwhile he sits next to me on the porch unmolested . . . It is bulk pick-up week in our uptown neighborhood so it was fun to watch fellows in their old flivvers driving up and down the street on Sunday in search of goodies. A few were so overloaded that we were certain they would topple over on the turns. Bob took one rusted metal chair to the curb and returned for another. By the time he got back the first chair was gone. And in another three minutes, so was the other one . . . We have all heard stories about talking to plants. Not everyone puts much stock into those tales. Well, early last week I heard Bob giving his hibiscus the holy what-fer. Either the plant cooperated or it was going into the trash. Well, come Saturday, Bob was blessed with this bloom and the bush is now covered in buds. Makes one kinda think, don't it? . . .
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