I think my cats

are best buddies now. They have two cat beds side-by-side, but try to fit in the same one together. It's snug!

Mabel wouldn't look at me when I squeaked to get them both facing the camera. 

baby snake

Found along the edge of garden bed, when I was trimming back the grass. After spending hours out there (or so it felt like) pulling the weeds from the beds. I saw this wriggle away and thought it was a large earthworm, but it moved differently. I actually saw three of them- and caught one (gently) just to take a picture.

Tiny Northern brown snake! (my best guess at identifying). I am fairly sure it is the same species I saw years ago as adult- I'm glad to know they're thriving in my yard. This one so small it's the width of my wedding ring. Literally.

I show nothing of the garden yet because it's in such terrible shape. But there are a few flowers lingering even though the heat- from a mixed packet my sister sent me last year. (I don't know which these are)

little celosias

It's started to come back- my desire to work in the yard and garden. I just woke up one day and felt like going out there and doing stuff. Maybe the malaise from TBI is finally lifting. Yesterday I actually went out and cleared all the weeds and dead plants from the garden beds- it's still rather untidy with leggy going-to-seed nicotiana and some other flowers leaning all over the place. But looks a bit cared for now. I also weeded out the front bed, which is full of gaps and alarming empty spaces since I cut back the boxwoods severely months ago and it is so slow to regrow (but showing some progress now). My next task is to dig out the bottom of the leaf pile and spread mulch here. And then plant something. Not more boxwood (one of them has died). Maybe a beautyberry, or an azalea.

But what really was my first move into doing plant stuff again was for someone else. Or a bunch of someones. I'd weeded the mailbox spot when trimming edges for mowing again, and there were a lot of little celosia seedlings growing up in the grass just outside the bed. I felt bad to keep just mowing their tops off, so I pulled most of them, potted up, and gave away via the online neighborhood group. At least half a dozen people came and took some. 

They were so sad when first potted up!

So spent a few days in my mini greenhouse to recover with some extra humidity. It was nice to put the greenhouse to use again. 

Part of the roof panel had torn off from the wind, so I fastened on some temporary plastic sheeting. On one short side, the plastic shower liner has started to tear. I taped it up. It's the section that was already used when I put it on here- the liner that I bought new shows no signs of wear yet. A year for that is pretty good I think, and if the new-bought one last two or three years, even better. It was only five dollars. Ten bucks every few years to re-skin my greenhouse is great.

Back to the plants- they all perked up and looked fine by the time I set them out for giveaways. It felt satisfying to get my hands a little dirty again.

this plant

is a good indicator of how off my mental state has been since the concussion. It's an American beautyberry- a plant I snatched up with delight at the last plant swap. I'd neglected to actually put it in the ground so it was waiting for cooler weather again. I should have been devastated (or at least sad, disappointed?) to find it wilted and looking dead after the heat wave we had, when I forgot to water most of my outdoor potted plants. I looked at its folded dry leaves and felt nothing. I didn't care. I wondered if I would ever care about plants and gardening again.

But I watered it, and all the other things, and most of them revived- my ginger mint is putting up a few new leaves again, the geraniums pulled through. Chives appear to be completely dead, but that one is no biggie- easy to start or buy more in spring. The beautyberry revived! It put out a lot of new leaves and looks good as ever now.

Weird thing is, I don't feel thrilled about this. I should be glad. I'm pleased, but in a way that feels remote. It's just such an odd thing, to not care much about what was once my passion.

Another sad aspect of this is, I looked back at what else I brought home from that plant swap. Most of them didn't make it. The mountain mint, sweetspire, St. John's wort, aster, bergamot and shining sumac are all dead. I am disappointed about the sumac. The rosemary is looking pretty terrible- most of it ended up afflicted by some insect and I cut it back and just a few stems are regrowing. I am not sure about the elephant's food and the sedum- will have to look next time I'm outside. And of the houseplants, I still only have the Haworthia. But do I feel sad about all this? No, just rather- indifferent. Which in itself is sad.