Foxglove for the Win

I was going to write this weeks ago but then Carole beat me to the punch. It's a foxglove conspiracy.
 
 I'm feeling irritated tonight because I'm trying to use my library's downloadable audiobook system for the first time. I have avoided it because... oh, because these things tend to be a huge pain in the ass to use. They spend so much time on DRM stuff and lending periods and allowed users that nobody pays much attention to, oh, usability or piddly things like that. And guess what? It IS a huge pain in the ass to use. So much so that now it's 1 1/2 hours later and I'm bailing on this. I want to get sleep tonight.   
 Big changes coming. I am sad, and anxious, and a little excited. No, I am NOT pregnant. YES, the Love Monkey is still around and kicking. Meanwhile I have to go fly to Illinois for a funeral. Heaven help the TSA if they decide that this is the one time I can't take my knitting needles.

Echinacea for the soul

I believe I've showed off the purple coneflowers before. When I lived in Seattle, people often grew these in their between-sidewalk-and-road plantings and I much admired them. I've got a couple clumps there myself now. They hang in there, year after year, despite the thick grungy clay soil and the fact I barely water them over the summer. When they bloom, I suddenly want a whole meadow of them.

Not I'm eyeballing some others or anything.

The to-do list is piling up again and staring hard at me, but hey, I got 4 (4! important!) things done on it today. I feel as if I'm running out of time. What is it I'm doing right now? What if I'm dying, what if I keel over tomorrow? Am I doing the now things I would really want to be doing? Why am I so stuck in regrets? Is this a midlife crisis? If I've got as long as my Dad, then I'm already past halfway. Sorry to be morbid. Then again, Mom is doing fine. She keeps saying she'll come visit and stain my fence. And I keep replying, you don't have to stain my fence to visit.

Maybe that's what the plants are for. It helps to stop and marvel at the small, amazing, incredibleness of them.

Too bad I can't bring myself to admire the small, amazing, incredibleness of mosquitos.

Dahliance

I didn't grow this one; just took the picture. I think dahlias are gorgeous, but they are too much work for me. Not really into digging up bulbs (says the person with a dozen mum babies that need to be pinched and fertilized and sung to softly)

 Also, does anyone need any daylilies? Because I divided this clump and now I've got extras and they're all growing and healthy. I've never divided daylilies before. You have to just cut right through the big clump of root; just saw it apart. I thought for sure I'd killed them, but no, all of them not only survived, but thrived (stayin' alive! purple beehive!)

I appear to be somewhat plant-obsessed this year. I'm feeling like I need to do at least just one thing right; carry through on at least one activity. I feel perpetually behind on my whole life, and I just keep getting older and behinder. Not to mention how impotent I feel about affecting all the things that seem to be wrong with the world.

I have a ridiculous amount of yarn that I'm not even knitting. I'm making a concerted attempt to cut the stash, but it seems almost insurmountable. I don't feel ruthless enough. Which makes it all just worse. Hmph. So I guess it comes down to that I just have to bull through and just try and change ME. And at this point in time, that seems to be following through on the plants.

My, does that sounds pointless. Well, at least I got the laundry done yesterday. Small victories.

Oh dogwood, my dogwood