A Morning Glory By Any Other Name Would Still Strangle Your Strawberries and other stories

When I was a Montana kid of maybe nine or ten, what I wanted most of all to grow in the garden was morning glory. We might have even planted a few seeds. I don't think they ever came up.

I certainly never anticipated morning glory in Washington.

climbing fences...

...topping the neighbors' flowering quince and wild rose,
along with some blackberry canes...

...and taking over the corner behind the currants and
the little Douglas fir.
It springs up in the garden and climbs my tomato cages—and sometimes my tomatoes. I find strands of it blooming in the tops of the lilac trees. It coats the remaining juniper in thick tangles of vines and leaves. I let it remain on the wire fence because it's prettier than the fence, though it'll probably be a lot of work to get off in the fall, but I've mostly given over calling it 'morning glory' and resorted to the more appropriate term of 'bindweed'.

I do have one plant capable of besting its chokehold, however. The pumpkin vine, after attempting to take over the tomato patch and nearly succeeding in quashing the beans, has begun climbing the fence. I've found several of its little tendrils wrapped around stems of bindweed.

* * *

Maia in one of her less photogenic moments, attacking the corner of the couch:

"What do you mean, why? Cats have no 'why'."
* * *

Christie over at the beautiful blog Spinning Straw into Gold is holding a fairy-tale-writing contest, with $15 Barnes and Noble gift cards—yes, plural—as the prizes. Feel like writing a fairy tale, or at least winning some book-buying power? Head on over and participate.

* * *

Readers' link of the week: Lev Grossman won't tell you the title, but he hates the book he's reading in "I Hate This Book So Much: A Meditation." I have to agree with his opinion of the first line of Anna Karenina.

* * *

Writers' link of the week: Mr. Pond forwarded on this Letters of Note post a few days ago, and it's a beautiful encouragement for writers of various imaginations.

* * *

Music of the week: It's hard to beat cello, or Saint-Saëns.

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Random amusement of the week: I'll have to link this over at The Hog's Head someday, if I haven't yet—at the moment I don't remember—but this art by James Hance is just all kinds of wonderful. I love 'Calvin & Hobbes', and the Meep mashup with Munch's The Scream just makes me giggle.

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After two nights of insomnia this week, I slept till noon today, and am now behind on everything—so I'm off to clean house. Happy weekend!


  1. One might think that with all of your lovely photos and vivid descriptions of trees, plants, flowers, etc. that you've been inspired by a John Foster book. ;o)

    Listening to The Swan never fails to wring my soul. No other composition manages to make death sound so sad and beautiful.... Thank you.

  2. Cats are always photogenic. They're also often unintentionally hilariously hilarious. I say unintentionally because as mere humans we probably could never comprehended the deadly seriousness of attacking the corner of the couch. ;)

  3. Thank you for the plug! I wish I could offer more, but sadly, the two gift cards were all my current finances would allow.

  4. Carrie-Ann, it makes me so happy that you liked The Blue Castle. John Foster for the win! :D And you're welcome--The Swan is exquisite, and I love it.

    George, seriously. :P

    Christie, I think your prizes are great! I still have some hopes of entering; we'll see how this next week goes.


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