The last of the marketworthy apricots have been picked and sold.
Six or seven pounds of slightly flawed fruit were dehydrated.
Now it's just me and the birds picking over the remains of an amazingly abundant apricot crop while we eye the swelling figs and grapes.
The green grapevine is a mess this year. I had intended, in spring, to build more structure to train the vine over the concrete pad which serves as outdoor yoga studio.
Broken arm meant almost all of my late winter/early spring projects didn't happen. Three months down the road we have grapevine gone wild.
Carrots, however, which were sown back then, in early spring, are starting to produce. This year's carrot endeavor is not the most successful crop ever, but also not the total failure I was beginning to think it. This week's slightly hairy (age? lack of water?) bunch seems to represent the Indian red and purple varieties plus maybe a stubby new world hybrid orange one. All were crunchy and sweet. The long red one measured 19 inches, though the tip was a bit spindly. Long carrots are rare in my garden - normal counsel is to choose stubby carrot varieties for the sandy and pebbly shallow desert soil.
Hemerocallis are blooming marvelous right now. I moved some around the garden at the end of last year but didn't always know the colour. Now I'm finding bursts of brilliance in unexpected places.
This little lemon yellow sweetie blooms prolifically, even if each flower lasts only a day. Obviously Hemerocallis like it in this garden.
Sunflowers are also exceedingly at home here, towering taller than the house in a bird heaven of a jungle out front.
I had intended to grow a hyacinth bean screen up that cattle panel along the front south wall this summer but bird sown sunflowers and the broken arm rearranged that seasonal garden design for me. I've no complaints. I can lie on my bed and watch birds and blooms, and witness the wild dance of monsoon season winds.
I've cancelled the rest of my scheduled osteopath visits. I do not want to invite into my life the negativity and greed of that robotic, unhealthy, unhealing, uncaring business. I'm drawing a hard line, especially after receiving a bill which showed the Las Cruces Physicians Inc made over 3000% (yes all those zeros should be there) profit on the tacky Made in Taiwan brace which was put on my brokenness.
Though I feel I've kinda plateaued with the range of motion and inflammation issues, the occupational therapist whom I working with at the local rural hospital says she thinks I'm doing fine. Every day my down dogs are a little less tentative though still awkward and painful.
Time. It takes time. They say.
I know, and struggle to reconcile with, that a part of me is always going to be a bit crippled and deformed now.
The desert at dawn in monsoon season says Carpe the heck outta the cool part of the Diem. Triple digit temperatures (for those who measure in Fahrenheit) are here again.