Herban Sprawl

It’s hot out. I put on my shower caps and came inside to hydrate. Simon yawned at me turned over and swabbed off a few scents he didn’t like before conking out again.

If someone calls you a chameleon, it’s time to examine your social skills. It no longer means you are adaptable to any situation. No indeedy. It means you go where you aren’t wanted, are difficult to convince to leave and return without an invitation.

The above should give you a hint that I have been digging up chameleon plant - again.  That miserable stuff was under the lavender, and unfortunately, I accidentally dug up a Fat Spike lavender plant. In a sense, it was probably a good thing because I needed that space for some daylilies, but I am not putting those in until I see if more chameleon pops up. I want an empty space so I can get them drunk on Round Up! The damn stuff has also infested a Munstead lavender, which doesn’t send up those graceful spikes. And, truth to tell, that one is probably about to be a past tense lavender, too. But it can’t go just yet because I have to have lavender in that bed. It’s the Detectives’ Garden, and the lavender was planted for Miss Marple, for Pete’s sake.

Anyway, I was in here, cooling off, resting my back, swilling limeade, and here came some other chameleons…Jehovah’s Witnesses. Middle school-aged Jehovah’s Witnesses, at that. I hate turning away kids. Their feelings were hurt, and it’s what happens when they get sent door to door. Somewhere down the line, even though their elders are responsible for placing those dear children in that position, I’m going to pay for hurting their feelings. I hate that.

Big Kitty is toiling away with his sanding wheel, and his occasional curses, combined with mine, are the result of appreciating the hard work in which we  are engaged in the same vicinity. Chameleon gets dug up with a fork and the Japanese weeder. Old paint gets removed with a steel bristle wheel. Either way, it’s worth a few bad words along the way. The cats are awake, unhappy about the racket, but forgiving because they know that fresh paint will make their porch much nicer, which is what they absolutely deserve just for being our cats.

But that chameleon plant….