Chores are calling; the couch is louder
I'm still kind of in awe of these dahlias, which refuse to stop budding even though their cold-weather cousins are sitting right there, screaming that their time in the sun is waning and it's time for them to shove over for autumnal decor. I don't know why the mums are so convinced they're right: They're within the shadow of monster canna lilies, which also refuse to acknowledge the change in season regardless of how many brittle, cinnamon-colored oak leaves kiss them as they drift to the ground. I'm not complaining. I love the duality as I often find myself on the border of things. I spent a good portion of the weekend scooping up magnolia leaves that had filled my driveway. We get a lot of enjoyment out of that tree, which technically belongs to my neighbor, Lois. It's a gorgeous canopy over our driveway and back stoop table. It's next to magical in the spring and summer. I keep threatening to thread it with outside lights, and the Captain keeps remin