I'll take Pansies and pumpkins, thank you.

There isn’t a whole heck of a lot to talk about lately except that Tuesday evening brought a trace of rain! Few drops of rain didn’t benefit us much since our 93 degrees yesterday broke a record of 91 back in 1939. A nearby town called Albemarle, home of Kelly Pickler, American Idol country star, had 97 yesterday. Lake Norman is twelve feet below normal and boats are in dry dock. The forecast looks dry for a while but the temperatures will drop in a few days, so I say bring out the pansies and pumpkins. Thinking and decorating in Autumn style isn’t easy until you can feel it in your bones.

After pushing dinner into the oven, I had about forty-five minutes to spare outdoors. When I see the largest feeder full of seed near the end of the day, that tells me something went awry. Not one bird could be heard or seen, except for a Cooper’s hawk that flew over my head and kept going, obviously not very hungry…

After all, it had a banner day, leaving behind two piles of Mourning Dove feathers. The feeder is still full as I write this. Second day in a row – full feeder. The large one is always empty by the time I get home from work!

A Carolina Wren saved my day and flew out from under the back deck where I’ve seen its comings and goings since last winter. Could I get a picture? Heck, no!

I hung around the pond for a while, still thinking and looking for something good to write about when I saw four large butterflies float by, over the pond, over the fence, and drifted into my neighbor’s yard down the hill. I had to know what the attraction was so I took off for those butterflies with camera around my neck, slipped on the pine straw on the way down the hill, landed gracefully on my backside, but I just had to say something, “Hey, come back here. Where are you going? My bargain basement butterfly bush isn’t good enough for you, eh?” Snobs, they are. I found the attraction. A very well established and huge butterfly bush, loaded with blooms, had been planted years ago in a low spot in the yard.

It’s no wonder they float by without stopping. There’s one bloom left on my sickly, so-called bush.

Then it got funny. Every time I hear it, I think, I’m going to punch the next person that says: “Mary Mary Quite Contrary, How Does Your Garden Grow?”

Impressive, huh? All were promising beauties a few months ago. Spider Wort didn’t have a chance. At this point. I don’t care. Let’em die.

There are still plenty to attract the butterflies but they don’t like me and my camera anymore.

In the middle of a brown, lifeless canvass I call my garden, the pink Zinnias have a little life left.

A few birds came back after a while. This one cranked its neck around to hear a Chickadee with a voice ten times is size. (May I suggest this is a……….juvenile goldfinch? I take that back. I don't know.)

It took a few minutes to remove my shoes and socks and to find a smooth rock on which to position my fanny. The Koi brushed by my legs and feet while I cooled down and felt relief…until I realized I left the camera on the porch step. I was too comfortable to get up.

Bel Bel, make yourself useful and go get mommy’s camera over there and bring it to me. (Of course, I didn't have my camera but these are the looks I get from her.)

Ten seconds later,

Well, Bel Bel? Where’s my camera?

Not until you g-g-get up and throw my hula hoop.

Bel Bel is not a cranky dog. It's the heat.

My ageing Chloe has been suffering the relentless heat for four months. Holding her face in my hand, I said to her, “I know it’s hot. We might not ever love Summer again like we used to but soon we’ll be painting pumpkins and planting Pansies! We’ll take walks in the neighborhood again and your teeth will chatter.” Oh, I hope so.