Hunkered down in the icky New England weather. No time to post. Eating hearty helpings of tortilla soup and pot roast.
Stood on the bridge and watched the sculls go thru the Charles at the Head of the Charles. Walked up the hill beyond Concord bridge.
In spite of the forecast of super-duper fall colors, it aint' great this year. Whatchagonnado?
Didn't come back from Bouchercon, because we never went. Heard a good speaker who had been in law enforcement all her life at MWA New England.
House invaded by wasps, but only 3-4 a day and either dead or drowsy. Did they come in in the planter? Who knows?
I planted 24 plants of garlic and got the tomatoes in before the frost and also my rosemary. Begonias drooping, impatiens froze, a few petunias hanging in there, parsley still magnifico. If fresh parsley is healthful, we are golden.
Coleus gone. I am reminded of the last book of Proust where the names are called with the exclamation, "dead" after each one. Coleus: dead! Impatiens: dead! Begonias: dead!
Off to heat up breakfast, a special strata with weird ingredients that all come together. We also drove by the Stata center, stopped and climbed the stairs. Gaped like tourists. Architecture on steriods.