The weather has turned snakey again. We had 2 teasingly beautiful days, with mild breezes, & warm sun, & no humidity. Perfection. Tricking us into believing in the myth of Spring.
It all turned to custard, however, with slushy sleet showers yesterday, rain during the night. Lazy winds, cutting right through your body. Outdoor activities to be avoided, where possible.
This pic of one of the measly crop of flowers on the vine. Others have these vines dripping solid walls of colour. This one never has produced that dreamed of wall of colour.
This small blossomed Azalea, a happy pink splash, somewhat overshadowed by the red Grevillea in our back garden. It struggles with the lace bug all over it's leaves, but still seems to valiantly produce a full array of flowers, in spite of neglect & crowding.
Some years ago, I took some lilly plants from a compost heap/wild garden in the untamed backyard at a house being rented, by acquaintances. I brought them home, & planted them in our garden. They initially threw up a few leaves, then seemed to vanish- for years! I know Gom was responsible for the destruction of some of them, but finally this year,
under threats from me, he restrained himself, they were left alone, long enough for them to develop. Imagine my surprise when I met the shy flower.
A light delicate green with the gentle yellow ?stigma?style?. How much of school biology I have forgotten! This is the second flower the group of plants have produced this year. The other group of plants seem to have vanished. I won't blame Gom. They might just be sulking...
Speaking of which...
I have long enjoyed Patricia Cornwell's books. I rather like the gory details & intrigue.
I am wondering though, if I am the only one who finds the 'romance' between Scarpetta & Benton somewhat tedious, for want of a better word.
They seem to deserve each other, both being written as given to arrogance & a certain disregard for the feelings of others. I am just finishing Predator. I have Trace waiting. I am unsure which was written first. I dont care, since I also find the BS about Lucy a little tedious too.
Bottom line, I dont really 'like' the characters any more. I used to rather like Marino, but even he has changed to someone who I am finding irksome?
In fact, I am beginning to wonder why I continue to read these books?
The detail to 'brand name' objects, the detail to guns, vehicles. Perhaps I
have got am getting old & crabby!
Yes, I do realise I could always stop reading her books!
In the same vein I have enjoyed Kathy Reichs' books. 'Bones', the TV show, has almost cured me of reading the books. I find the TV version so irritating I cannot watch it! I become enraged at it's seeming stupidity.
Sitting ranting at a TV screen is neither healthy nor attractive!
Much more fun, to find a kindred spirit & sit & rant with them, about all the TV shows, books etc, that we 'hate'.
That was one thing V & I could do in tandem. What fun we had, & how liberating.
Who says Little Old Ladies can't cuss! We could prove that wrong. Really it was healthy, cleansing, venting. How we laughed, & laughter is always good for everything that ails one! Plus no one got hurt, or offended.
My back seems to be determined not to improve much. So no sewing, not even any hand work.
I was born without the sport gene. Exercise & I have been sworn enemies for most of my life. I know that I need some form of exercise though, so am reluctantly thinking of (shudder) 'joining' something. Since I have a knee that needs replacement, walking it out. The idea of sitting solitary on an exercycle doesnt really appeal much.. although, perhaps if I had an ipod or something??
I did love swimming, & guess that would be my best avenue. But what the hell does a ruined body wear to 'swim exercise'? A tent would be good....
Sting, Fields of Gold