Wow, I'm wiped out today. It's been a long, intense week; lots of grading last weekend, then lots of work preparing for classes this week, and now mountains of papers awaiting me when I'm done writing this entry. I'm sure I've added to my fatigue with my bike rides, too, which I managed to fit in three times last week.

At any rate, today I feel like a dishrag. I wish I could curl up on the couch with a book, or sleep all day, or take a pill that would make me feel invigorated, or something . . . I've been moving very slowly this morning, which is about all I can manage, but I'd be better off if I could plow through the work awaiting me like a Husqvarna through soft wood . . .

Ah, well. Perhaps if I get enough done this afternoon, I'll manage to continue my podcast of The Grapes of Wrath later today . . .

At any rate, in the absence of an energetic entry, I offer you pictures. These have been sitting in the camera for a week or so, waiting to be downloaded. I took them in the back yard last weekend when it was sunny and summer-like.



Here are the morning glories, climbing up the fence (and spilling all over everywhere). Emil, especially, gets a kick out of these because they took a long time to get started; the heat in the early summer really got to them, and, we discovered, they were actually planted over the asphalt of the driveway, which we'd forgotten about - when the fence went in, the line of the yard changed. So it took them a while to take root.








And here's the eggplant I put in with the petunias, just because I thought the colors would be nice together. (The petunias are looking a little scraggly.)








And the ever-present geraniums. My mother loved geraniums, and so do I; we always have them growing somewhere. These are next to the garage.








And the piece de resistance: The sunflowers. Emil bought this plant at the end of July, when it was seriously marked down. He thought he was going to get one big one . . . The best part about this is that it's growing right outside Em's bedroom window. She didn't realize we'd planted it until one night, when she was lying in bed and happened to look out and saw half a dozen flowers peeping in at her. She said she nearly jumped out of her skin . . .







And of course, the water hyacinth. This is the first time we've gotten flowers from it.




That's all for now. More to say tomorrow, I hope . . .