The drought in Alabama is terrible. I think the last information I saw said we were 28 inches behind in rain. We’ve been on a restriction for months now that lets us water twice a week. I turn off the shower while I wash my hair.
Most of my flowers grow in our front yard (so that the evil pups can romp in the back). This is my azaleas.
And here is my flower bed.
Early on, I decided to avoid watering, and see what survived. I don’t anticipate it getting any better next year. We’ve lost a mature peach tree and even the rose arch over our front door.
Amazingly, a few things have survived. My rosemary hedge is beautiful. And we have flowers here and there. I’ve taken to calling them drought flowers.
Every time we get a sprinkling of rain, they come out.
They’re so beautiful. They’re like a promise. I miss my tangled English garden dreadfully — I plan on doing some careful replanting and nursing. I’m hoping I haven’t lost all of my tall garden iris and I’m hoping my roses will all survive. I don’t think I’ll ever take a summer flower garden for granted again.
Even the cats seemed to languish in the hot summer weather. Harry has been looking peaked for the last few weeks. But, with the cooler air this week, the Main Coons are back outside and playing like their happy lunatic selves. I’m hoping that it will stay cool and their mood will be infectious.
We’re off to see Where the Wild Things Are, being performed as a ballet by Alabama Ballet. It’s going to be Ollie’s first trip to the ballet. He saw it in rehearsal and really wanted to go. I’m not sure four year old boys and the ballet are a good mix, so please wish me luck this afternoon!