Taking advantage of a rare not-100-degrees-at-6-AM morning, I wandered the garden and snapped a few pics.
My Swamp has been through a lot in the last year. Sewer line replacement, tree removal, and drought have all taken their toll, yet some beauty remains, mostly thanks to the annuals.
Bermuda grass is taking over with abandon. I'm letting it because it's keeping the little soil I have from blowing away in the humid Kansas wind. I will regret that decision but I'm not about to go fight Bermuda grass in 106 degrees. In case you're not familiar with Bermuda grass, it loves the heat, it grows by seed and by runners and it's almost impossible to kill. It's pretty much a weed but most Kansans put up with it because it actually grows here. I hate grass, so I hate Bermuda grass. It's that simple.
My "Early Girl" tomato has officially broken through its support and creeps toward the house, I suspect, in pursuit of fresh fertilizer. I'm extremely wary of reaching into its depths to pick tomatoes for fear my arm won't come back out. Mom suggests a short story will come of it. She may be right.
I'm thinking I may take tomorrow morning, you know, before 8 AM and 100 degrees, to go out back and try to restore some semblance of order. Then again, I may wait until December's probable mid-80 temperatures to tackle it. At this rate, another few months will see the entire back yard consumed by Bermuda and all I'll have to do is mow.
I hate mowing, too. I'm not letting this garden go without a fight.