I wrote this on August 1st----

The weight of the day's heat was already upon Fairy Holler early. Today
was the day of my youngest son's birth. On this day 32 years ago, it
was 100o degree's and he popped out of my young body like a fast ball of
anger. A full month early that no one at the hospital recognized when
he arrived, his arrival at 11:07 a.m. was full of relief as well as
anticipation as the indoor swimming pool that was his bed had finally
been burst to reveal my belly was barely pregnant looking. Before the
dam had flooded the bed and floor, I looked as if I carried twins or a
great hefty child. This memory came as quickly as any other, and I
smiled at the idea of him and gathered myself as I started the day
earlier than usual.

As I rose from the extremely soft,new mattress on our makeshift bed and
moved reluctant dogs and felines over and out in my rising, I stopped
long enough to look outside the bedroom window at the overgrowth of
perennials and August blooming flowers. I quietly lifted the window and
inhaled the outside air which pushed past the screen into the cooler
room. The air was thick and moist. Another scorcher. As I watched the
circus before me, all the winged acts doing their acrobatics and balance
defying feats, I let my eyes wander, taking in textures and identified
random things.

Last year I had only a few of the Swamp sunflowers. This year, those few
plants have mothered thousands, and I have torn out hundreds and still
what's left is impressive. I'll melt into a puddle of emotions and joy
when they make their huge coreopsis looking flowers.

I see splashes of orange and I know that it's the Poinsettia euphorbia
that I was so worried about not having any. That's a joke. It's
everywhere. Every pot EVERYWHERE has at least ONE Poinsettia euphorbia.
All the cacti in every container have P. euphorbia. It's come up in
cracks. Apparently dust fine seeds have sown themselves in the soils
that I reuse because they've even germinated in a new pot of geraniums!
I can hear the insidiously mad laughter of the Euphorbia fairy as he
cackles in glee at the overabundance of these sticky sapped plants. But
I adore and love every one of them. I've even spotted a huge, tall
plant in a waste basket down on the downstairs patio slab where I put
half the tropical plants during spring and summer. I noticed it when I
was tearing out that mystery grass from around the heat pump unit the
other day and was amazed that it was THERE.

And now I have another Euphorbia that has mysteriously appeared for me.
Not unwelcome like the common spurge that I have since bringing it home
from a job years back. No, this one the older folks call "snow on the
mountain" and has very, very white and light green leaves and only
becomes visible right now. I had planted seedlings of it from Miz Mary
last year when they showed themselves and they were petulant with me and
never gave me one baby. But in a nursery pot that I tucked a variegated
Lysmachia into that I got up in Michigan, there rose from the very edge
of the inside four or five strong stalks with the unmistakable leaves up
top. Makes an awesome picture. (I can post it on
alt.binaries.pictures.gardens if you'd like) g

My patience and leisure of waiting and looking is rewarded when I see
the flash of the resident thugs. The Rufus hummers are long up and
seeking nectars and picking fights. I have no idea just how many fights
they will pick today, but the day beckons me, and I slip into my cargo
shorts and find my sandals with the straps and step outside to see what
greets me. A humid, hot wall of Summer. wow. My mind immediately
realizes that it would be a great day to wash my hair and sun and dry
it. Duck back in, wash my long hair, brush out the tangles and step
back outside to let the moisture sucking heat do it's work.

I check the pocket watch in my right pocket and see it's close to time
to do the ritual that both of my son's have come to expect from me on
the day of their birth at the time they were born. I always play
"Birthday" off the White Album by the Beatles and where as they used to
be embarrassed by it, they now expect it. Yep, so I go back inside.
Pull out the cd and cue it up and call his cell number and listen to his
message, I hit the play button on the player and hold the phone up to
the speaker and let the song play out. At the end notes, I leave a
personal mama message and then listen to it. Perfect. Even clearer than
I would have thought. Sometimes technology works......can you hear me
now? this time, yes, even if it IS sprint......LOL

Back outside into the heat, I release the hounds to run and piddle and
play, and they're soon back informing me it's too hot to play. Go play
anyway I tell them and reluctantly they go over to the yard across the
driveway and half ass at doing their dog games as I stroll around
looking for stress signs and I see them everywhere. Containers and
occupants are drooped. Plants are already showing that the heat and sun
are sucking the droplets of precious moisture out of the raised beds.

Everywhere the bumblies and other brightly colored winged things are
busy, busy, busy. Heat doesn't affect them. They are on a mission. It's
a veritable family reunion of bumble bees and their brethren.

The white dwarf butterfly bush is truly a shortie, and I've trimmed
back the spent flowers. Around the eastern edge of it, magenta pink
phlox is still blooming and my bumblies are pawing and tearing them
eagerly to find the pollens and nectars. A shadow passes over the
flowers and I see it's a silent gliding butterfly in search for tasties.
No Harlequin Glory Bower this year, it demised during the droughts.
All I have are two spindly daughters that I will ignore to hopefully
take root in the worst possible location, but anywhere is better than
none at all. I just miss the peanut butter leaves and sharp vanilla
flowers, as do all the butterflies.

As I check for Blister beetles (I discovered their early emerging and
nuked them with pyrethrum spray) on the anemone leaves, I was happy to
find the spice Clethera was blooming just a titch. And the anemone in
the front bed was budding nicely. that reminded me, so I stepped back
to the nook deck and gazed into the NSSG. The anemone buds down below
were bursting with pinkness. I walked around to the driveway and went
to the wall and inspected the leaves. not one black striped devil
chewing and making holes. While down there I noticed seedlings of
corydalis had settled in, and remembered to check on the seedling that
had taken root in the Cereus cactus. Meander over to the wall and be
amazed once again at the growth rate of the Indigofera bush and how she
adores her home at the edge of the new deck and near the wall. Already
she is stretching up towards my nook window to thrill me with the antics
of the pollinators on those finger looking pink spires of flowers. I
adore this bush and want another one. But instead, I have others to
plant in other places. One is more than enough.

The Lady Jane magnolia has made more buds I see, but I'm not sure if it
will bloom again, despite the potential for being a re-bloomer as the
books indicate. Time will tell me on that question. The blackberry
corydalis dissolved, and that was my fault. You have to be diligent on
watering during hot, dry days of mid summer. I see that all the bulbs
have slipped into summer slumber and I have to remember to top dress the
soil with bulb food soon. Maybe those wild looking tulips will return
and bloom for me.......I hope so. I loved them so much this spring.

The new hosta border looks happier, now that I've top dressed the whole
thing. It took 200 pounds of Garden Magic soil to fill up a border of
hosta's and ferns that looped around the edges of the Black cherry shade
garden. The width was no more than a foot and about as deep, maybe a
bit less, but now all I have to do is supplement a bit of moisture until
the hosta's take hold. and maybe do something that I usually don't do.
Mulch them.......yes, I said mulch......LOL

I am still astounded by the size and girth of the perennial begonias
this year. The leaves are HUGE. Ginormous as I love to say. I plucked
one to show Ethyll and it was astounding to her. I suspect that the
humus soils and sprinklings of Ironite and time release have had their
effects. Whatever it is, the leaves rival hosta's in some instances. I
measured one and it was over 14 inches wide!

I was reluctant to leave the considerably cooler shade of the black
cherry tree, but moved back out towards the front fairy beds where the
growth of everything has taken off and obliterated the front of the
house. Blue Enigma salvia this year is ram rod straight, and now needs
tipping back to put out more side shoots with those flowers the hummers
love so dearly.

Mixed in with them is a new clump of Herbsonne rudbeckia that seeded
itself around the Chinese almond bush, and behind and up underneath is a
Lemon Queen heliopsis that has flung her spindly arms and legs and stems
all over the place and opened up those bright yellow daisies that go so
well with the blue of the salvia. And the darker orange yellow of the
H. rudbeckia is more than the little flies and hover bees and honey bees
and assorted residents can stand (including the finches, who in
desperation for either moisture or food, started stripping the heads of
the flowers before the seeds had time to form this year!)

Every sedum everywhere is making those colorful broccoli buds that drive
the wasps and shiny hover bees insane with lust and insatiable desires.
They are magnificent. Matrona, Raspberry ice, the white edged one of
questionable identity. Everyone has put on their individual showings
and for rewards, the assorted residents are busy dancing on their stars.
Up close, with the digital camera, these sedum flowers reveal
themselves to resemble stars in various shades of soft pinks, flesh,
whites, plums and some yellows.

All the plants are leaning and pushing and shoving against each other,
and it's just too damn hot to do anything more than tug unsuccessfully
on a thick, fleshy knobby knee'd mirabilis that has insisted on
sprouting and set blossoms. All I succeed in doing is breaking the
thick stem off at the base near the soil. I can almost hear the thick,
black, carrot like root laughing at me under the parched and tight soil.

I slipped thru the narrow opening between the well head and spigot and
the asters that FINALLY figured out they weren't supposed to bloom in
May, but more closer to August or September. The fig tree has overcome
the weak and floppy regrowth and has thickened up her branches, leafed
out, and set figs in the dark green rooms along every branch near every
leaf. I am not pruning her again. If I have to get a ladder to harvest
figs I will. The actual cutting of these last branches opened up the
side yard so much with such intensity of sunlight, I almost burnt up the
tender residents of the BBQ pit-fountain/garden/frog and fish pond this
year. I've successfully planted Japanese painted ferns and tassel ferns
and lady ferns along the edges of the slight trickling stream that runs
down to the first holding area and then past into the fish pond, and the
ferns adore the higher humidity.

I had tucked Creeping Jenny into cracks, along with a couple of pieces
of Houytinea vine and a stray piece of variegated ivy from Silver's pot
that is covering the pawlonia tree trunk. The heat and moisture from
the water in the "pond" has encouraged everything to thrive. Including
the heuchera's that I tucked into the bricko block holes along side of
the water's top edge. Pewter colored leaves with veined leaves shine
brightly up at me in a little tight wad near the edge of the water as I
gaze in and see the brightly colored fish leisurely swimming about,
oblivious of me until I move a bit and then they're gazing upwards,
wanting food. FEED US!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My mind wanders........

I see the absently tucked in shoot of Sorbaria is thriving, and
struggling to adjust to the new location is the Mexican jasmine bush
from Mary Emma. I only hope it takes and survives. And beneath all this
the hateful vinca that I see now is intent on strangling and choking
everything in it's path. I say this with certainty because the vinca
major has murdered a huge clump of Zebra grass beside the gate. And all
my efforts at minimal removal were really just teasers as I see in the
blistering heat that the vinca thrives and flourishes despite everything
else. And not one leaf chewed. If you pull it now, all you hear is a
thick THUNK as the sinew like vines finally snap and you fall. They're
that tough, this variety of vinca. I'd not wish it on my enemy.

Distracted, and frustrated now, I step into the kitchen where I had to
hang their food in a hanging pot underneath the antique medicine cabinet
that Squire found in my basement of my old first house and refinished it
to reveal beautiful cherry woods, and a dowel underneath for a towel, so
I turned it into a spice cabinet and out of desperation recently, hung a
plastic hanging nursery pot over the towel rod, because the raccoon was
determined to eat their pellets. Grab a small handful and back out,
sprinkle them and watch their mouths go up and suck in a floating ball
of food and then dart back into the murky waters.

So much to be done, and it's so hot outside you don't want to do
anything. The mystery grass has once again conquered the paths in such
thickness and height it's not only overwhelming but impressive. I know
with just a bit of time and back aching I could rip this out easily. But
not today. It's too hot to do more than glance at beds and chastise
myself before I head back towards the cooler innards of the house.

The little female cat, Maggie has spotted me and welcomes me in her high
pitched trill. (the spirit of Pye my beloved mugwump Tortoise shell cat
who passed last year lives here still) I can't abandon her so quickly
since she's now showing her pleasure of discovering me out in her
jungle. She rolls and cavorts and whores herself to me, showing me her
white belly and trilling to the point of endearment, so I reach and give
her a gentle scritch and she plays all bad ass and does that evil little
snarl and growl she has. You'd think she was the worst little feline
bitch there is, but I know it's all for show. I ignore her and give her
just enough tickles to please her and stop before she has enough and
slaps me. It's hilarious to see her face as she doesn't realize I've
beaten her at her own game. I've cut her off before she can show her
butt and be mean. Her secret name of Xena comes thru when she's being
evil, and I murmur it to her as I straighten up and move past her on the
side porch.

Laughing out loud, I see everywhere fever few sprouting in every
container and pot on the deck's sunny end. I also remember that the
cactus pots scattered out front has spent their summer on this deck last
year here and realize that's the other thing vying for space in the
already crowded deserts with the cactus and euphorbia's. That's fever
few! Ahhhh, well, I can take each pot and gently tip out the cactus and
tease out the fever few and re-pot them with a good mix of soil and
gravel and maybe tuck the fever few into random area's of the raised
beds and regret that next year when it all takes and thrives.

The heat is making me prickle, and as I open the screen door, Maggie
bolts past me, beside my ankles and runs into the dark kitchen (I need a
large window in that west wall........) and the dogs are waiting
impatiently for me, having been let back inside, Smeagol had protested
being separated from me by howling and yodeling at me from behind the
windows and doors. Sugar had searched for doors to pop open with her
nose (Rose lives!) but having discovered I'd covered my tracks and
latched every exit door, she was stuck inside and when I was out front,
I'd hear the swinging of the cat flap on their personal entrance and
then see her black nose with the powdered sugar around the top of it as
she smelled for me.

I got greeted like I'd been gone years, and went into the living room
where Smeag immediately leapt up on the couch, wedged himself between me
and the armrest and lay over my lap and gave a deeply satisfied dog sigh
and grunt. He thought he had me trapped and I was his. Sugar just gave
me those deep, soulful looking sad eyes and I promised her I'd slip her
a sneaky snack later on. but as soon as I said the words, the boy
jumped down, and they both got me so tickled I had to go get them a dog
cookie. Just the mention of the word gets responses.....

As I went back to the living room, I saw quick movements outside the
large window. The hummers are searching the forest of blue salvia and
I'm enthralled at their antics. I sit and watch quietly, and before I
realize I could at least try and capture a picture, they were off in the
heat to do other hummer deeds.

Tonight I will water in the dark of evening and write about other things
when it cools down if it does. There is LOTS more to share, but it will
be of another more magical day than this.

thanks for allowing me the time.

madgardener up on the hot and sticky ridge, back in Fairy Holler,
overlooking English Mountain in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36