That did not work. You are still shooting. Time to escalate. In this picture I am performing the Audible Tooth Chatter and Violent Tremble. I am cold and it is wet and I want to go INSIDE. NOW.
I'll never be done, Darling Dog. The yardwork this week is epic. The Lord's granted us a week of summer in November, and by gum I'm taking advantage of it.
Just behind, the last morning glories frolic at the base of their towering, frost-ruined vine. Oh, jolly good show! This taken in the evening, when yesterday's blossoms are curling up like popped balloons, and today's are purpling and starting to close, and tomorrow's are trying to open...morning glories get so confused on warm November nights! It's a glorious confusion.
Back in May a sweet potato sprouted in the cupboard. It had a whole Max Headroom hairdo of curly red sprouts. I lopped off the third that was sprouting and baked the rest. Walked out and planted that third in wet garden soil. The red sprouts turned green, leafed out. By September it had spread over the whole southeast corner of the garden and was covered in morning-glory like purple flowers. Can't believe I didn't photograph them.
I kind of forgot it was there until I was cleaning up and pulled at a dried but very tough vine. Oh! That must be the yam! I followed to its source, put the spade in and turned up these! To my great surprise, the third of a yam that I'd started with was still firm and showing no signs of rot. But it was festooned in connectors that led to more fat yams! What if I'd forgotten to dig it? It could so easily have happened, with the fall I'm having!