Nothing Special on a Sunday

Our orange azalea is blooming up a storm right now. Dave and I were looking around the garden a couple of days ago and he gestured to the azalea and said, "I think that might be my favorite plant." While I like the color, I'm not crazy about the rumpled texture of the flowers. They all look like they just came out of a washing machine. But it is a profuse bloomer and gives us a nice splash of color.

I was out in the garden yesterday morning, weeding and neatening some things up, when I discovered that our passionflower vine at the corner of the patio is, in fact, dead. We suspected as much. It didn't exactly prosper last year. Fortunately, we have a second one that came up from seed in the pot that houses our olive tree, so hopefully it will contribute some passion to the garden this summer.

There are a couple of other plants that haven't made it, so I think I'm going to clean out some pots sometime soon. It's incredibly liberating to throw out a potted plant that has died on its own despite my best care. It makes me feel like I get the last laugh.

And yet, I also cannot resist a challenge. I found this poor hydrangea, dry as a golf ball in Palm Springs, sitting next to a trash can on Fortune Green Road. Dave loves hydrangeas so I brought it home and soaked it in water overnight. It looks terrible but I think it will survive. The stems are healthy and green and once it puts out new leaves I'll trim it and it will be good as new.

If you're squeamish about bugs, skip the next picture!

One of our peony buds has quite a collection of aphids on it, as well as ants that seem to be "farming" them. I am always impressed at how a single flower can contain its own ecosystem. It's Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom! I suppose the aphids may stunt the flower, but if they do, c'est la vie. We have more on the way.

Around midday it began to rain -- not hard, but steady and enough to give everything a good soaking. It relieved me of any guilt I felt for not at least trying to walk the dog. I sat and listened to music and worked on my stamps, and Olga seemed happy to snooze at my feet. I'm almost finished putting the stamps in my albums, and then we'll regain the dining room tabletop, which has been covered with them for the past few weeks. (Not that we ever eat in there.)

I've been putting out four new fat balls every day for the parakeets, who devour them completely in no time. This is apparently going to be the summer of the parakeets. They're around so much I don't even bother to photograph them anymore. Occasionally something else can squeeze in for some food -- I saw a woodpecker on the feeder a couple of days ago and a robin was on it just now.

Oh, and starlings. We have no shortage of those.

Last night, we watched "Four Hours at the Capitol," a documentary about January 6. It was excellent and appalling and infuriating, and it showed exactly who did what despite all the obfuscation and conspiracy theories that right-wingers have spouted since alleging ANTIFA and FBI involvement. The producers did a great job getting a variety of people to talk, including members of Congress, policemen and protesters. Definitely worth watching, if you can stomach it.