Oh the lyricism of a Columbus Brewing IPA! After the workmanlike Sam Adams Summer, it's like a breath of fresh air. It sings with hoppiness - who'd have thunk I'd become a hophead after being so long so resistant to the clarion call of the bitter ale? But sing it does on this night, after a day.
I've still not of a mind to read, but instead to play with this word processor and maybe listen to a few tunes to the medley of an IPA. (Fascinating fact: German beer steins were invented with lids to keep out the vagaries of the natural world, like bird doo-doo, since they usually drank in beer gartens in the great outdoors.)
So the yard looks great, the tomato vines getting fuller and the weeds more or less dominated. Hopefully from now nature will take its course and I can enjoy some large sweet tomatoes in a few weeks. The tomato plants started so small and were so threatened by enveloping, threatening weeds that it took almost an act of faith to believe they'd survive and thrive. But now they stand like pinions, nice three to four feet fellows that are beginning to fill their cages. To their left, looking south, stands the grape arbor, which lends a gentrified air to the festivities.