Reading: The Lovely Bones

Garden: the salvia's begun to bloom, the squirrels have climbed the cherry tomato plant to death, the unknown squash is the size of a pumpkin, the raspberries and other tomatoes would like more sun.

Watching: "A Bridge Too Far"

Moving:

27 August 2002: Pictures

<~~The beginning of picture-taking: crest up, head forward, neck long, a buddy interested in what's going on.

After several minutes, boredom and irritation: crest flat, neck contracted. It says something that he gets bored being photographed sooner than I do photographing him. ~~>

I know it's more the angle of his little peanut head, but I think it's funny that the sparkle's gone out of his beady little eye in his boredom.

I still can't show his darling little eyelashes, but you can see his over his eye the curve of eyebrow feathers.

Blake got a yawning fit and we took several pictures, or RDC did, of him perched on my finger, yawning irresistibly.

The buddy yawn. If there is anything cuter than a cockatiel yawn, I have yet to experience it. Except puppies, of course. Well, most puppies.

Doesn't he look like he's about to orate? Perhaps he should join a debate club. "Resolved: millet should be served with all meals." It occurs to me that he also looks like Emily about to narrate the Christmas pageant.

In this one, he looks like Calvin as a sparrow about to belt out, "On top of spaGHETti, all covered with cheese..."

My salvia bloomed overnight. I'm so pleased. The brick is not the best background against which to appreciate what a perfect blue this is, a fusion of saturated cobalt and periwinkle. The shape of the blossoms, as well, pleases me no end. It doesn't have a strong scent, though. That might be good, since that tallest stalk is now nearly as tall as I am. Also the agastache continues strong.

I have to deadhead the catmint, which makes me sad. It's blossoming, and I have to snip those flowers? But so it goes. Also I have to find some root food. I wonder if anything organic is available.

Speaking of, I turned my compost for the first time all summer. Finally, a heaping wheelbarrowful of dark, moist loam. I am going to work it into my vegetable garden late next month, moving that much volume of two-season-old vegetable garden soil into the south garden, which is quite a bit lower than the rest of the yard.

I love being able to say I am older than dirt. Also I have this impulse to imitate Tom Hanks in "Castaway": "I have made soil!"