A Possible Culprit, and Thom Gunn

This is Persicaria amplexicaulis, which we have growing in the "Ratthew zone" of our garden below the blackberries. Every time I pick blackberries I wade into this plant and reach through the leaves. Bailey, in her obsessive quest to conquer Ratthew in all his iterations, has been practically rolling around in it. (In fact she's done quite a bit of damage to it, but it's tough!)

Blogger Jennifer asked in a comment whether my itchy arms might not be due to irritation from a plant. I hadn't really thought about it before, so I did some Googling about this Persicaria, and lo and behold, what did I find? "Contact with all parts may irritate the skin," warns the Royal Horticultural Society. Who knew?!

I suppose this may in fact be the culprit when it comes to my itchy arms (and legs, to a lesser degree), not to mention Bailey's itchiness. I don't break the leaves or stems or come into contact with any visible sap, so I'm not 100 percent certain, but it seems likely. Maybe I just need to wear sleeves while picking berries. (I suppose if bugs were to blame that would help too.) I don't think I can realistically keep Bailey out of it, but hopefully her fur gives her some measure of protection.

Here's a less toxic denizen of our garden -- some zinnias, now in full flower and pretty much identical, which is purely by chance because the seeds were mixed.

This was one of my projects yesterday -- to refresh the plants on our front porch. I bought that beautiful Echinacea at Waitrose on Thursday, and the little blue balloon flower I bought yesterday at a florist. The annuals we had out there from the spring were looking sad, so this gives the front door a bit of a lift.

We had a lobelia in that gray pot for nine years (!) but it had been gradually dwindling, and it expired this summer. I think Warren missed it when he watered during our absence and it just got baked. I never liked it much anyway.

And of course I spent more bonding time with Bailey. This is her "pleeeeeeease keep rubbing my belly" face. We went for a walk to Kilburn Grange Park and up through Kilburn toward Cricklewood. She seems like a more dutiful walker than Olga, to such a degree that I worry she's not having much fun -- especially because I can't let her off lead to play with a ball or anything. Her new long lead did arrive yesterday so maybe today we'll experiment with that a bit.

Otherwise, I spent part of the day reading a biography of Thom Gunn, the poet, which I bought a couple of years ago. The subtitle is "A Cool Queer Life," and while Gunn was gay and quite edgy, the book is pretty sophisticated in its discussion of his poetry -- so much so that I'm afraid it's going over my head. I really don't know Gunn's poems, so I struggle when the author gets specific about certain works or wades into the philosophy behind his writing (Gunn was a big fan of Stendhal and Camus, neither of whom I've read or know much about). I'm more interested in his relationships and his life as a gay man in the '50s, and how he made that work in such a conservative era. Fortunately the book goes there too.

I also spent part of the day on the phone with my brother trying to sort out certain aspects of my stepmother's estate. I have to go back to the notary on Tuesday to sign more documents. Ugh!

Last night I made a martini and watched a movie called "M/M," a surreal gay German film that I've had on my list for ages, and ultimately found pretty tedious. I don't know whether the martini hurt or helped!