It began to sprinkle on my way home. I should not apply stain if rain is forecast during the next 24 hours, and I don't like to pressure-clean if I'm going to freeze in the blowback. So that was my excuse. I transplanted the jasmine that the neighbor gave us, we ate spinach from the garden, and I read Watership Down. Also I put away two-day-old laundry (only occasionally do I get it away the day I do it). Blake was a beast with two back toes, falling in lust first with the washcloth (I bought new, periwinkle blue washcloths when the fam came in March, but did not bring Blake to vet colors) and then with laundry. He spent a lot of time in his cage, pacing and whining, because he would not play nicely in his box or with a peacock feather or be pet (and to turn pages with one hand and pet with the other constitutes a perfect evening for me) or listen to music with his daddy. I will use the old washcloths if I have to but the new ones are still cushy. Hmph.
My neighbor gave me a jasmine because he is kind and generous. The jasmine is hardy only to 20 degree Fahrenheit, which means it should come inside over the winter, yet it wants to climb, which means it should live outside where it can climb. Also it is very tall, and my pots are either pretty for inside or big for outside. Well, I have until fall to get it a pot of adequate size and prettiness, but I am not an indoor plant person. And since it was a gift from someone I like, its probable death will be guilt-inducing. Hooray.
One thousand five hundred ladybugs supposedly were in that bag. I shook them into the lower branches of the cherry tree and left the net bag and the raffia in a crook for them to finish escaping from. The leaves do look better--maybe because the hosing rinsed off some goo as well as less grippy aphids, since I don't see scads of ladybugs around. What eats ladybugs? Any meat-eating bird, I figure. We have flickers and robins and starlings in abundance.*
Tomorrow is supposed to be hot and I will pressure-clean if it's not cloudy.
* I have not seen "Rocky Horror Picture Show" in years. When will I be able to say "in abundance" and not hear Frank N. Furter in my head?