The carnage continues and my yet my spinach battles on.
I believe they are convinced that they are spears that will eventually stab the underside of their attackers.
One can only hope.
It's a lazy lot of stray cats that I have in my yard.
Unwelcome and unwanted.
If they were writing a story about their lives it would be filled with scavenging, loneliness and a crazy lady who repeatedly opens her windows and shouts loud vernicular at them.
Away with you, dreaded beasts!
When I first wrote of their horrid existence, I shared with you my distaste for all things feline.
And then I wrote about how a new stray came to lay in the sun and lick body parts in a way that was less than modest and leave their evidence behind.
And our next adventure comes in the form of sopping rain, my other enemy to happiness this summer.
It’s shaping up to be a cold summer. The kind of summer where no one comes of age and all diary entries start and end with whining due to the inelegance of continual downpour.
And now we have cats.
Cats and rain. It’s raining cats and cats.
It’s all a vicious circle reminding me that a gardener must battle the elements if there is any hope to be organic.
They may have won the battle but I will win the war.
I need a new strategy.
I will keep you posted.