Cat About Town

I hung out with Baxt and Petey today, and took advantage of Petey’s car to go to the nursery to pick up some plants. After dragging them to half the nurseries in town, shocked by the price of ground covers, we finally ended up at Fiddler’s Green Nursery, where I picked up a lemon verbena bush, because it smelled so good, along with a flat of Corsican mint and another of blue star creeper. The Corsican mint smells delicious, and it will grow into a big soft squishy mat which will be nice to walk and lie on. It will also exude its awesome odor in the summer, part of my goal to make the garden smell good.

The blue star creeper is another ground cover, with small blue flowers in a big dense mat of greenery, and I think that it will look really good once it spreads out. I also picked up some lantanas, which should spread out and get nice and shrubby. Behind the lantanas, I planted a lavender shrub, so my garden should smell really, really good in the summer. The peach tree pooped on me while I was working; I think the fruit needs a few more days to be perfect.

While I grubbed around in the garden some more, wincing at my sunburn, Baxt worked on a project and Petey and I chatted. It was a very mellow sort of day, and I actually rather enjoyed it, although I think I may have made my sunburn a bit worse. The garden looks really good now, and I can see my scheme taking shape. In a month or so, the ground covers should have spread out a bit, and the garden will look more green and lush, which will be excellent.

We also took Mr Bell to his ultrasound appointment; Dr. Jordan couldn’t find anything, which is a good thing. He strongly suspects that the problem was a sterile inflammation, although he wants to run a urine culture next week, just to be sure. Mr. Bell’s pee problem has been frustrating, but I’m glad that none of his tests so far have revealed a serious problem. I still maintain that he secretly has a crush on Dr. Jordan.

He and Loki have been keeping a close eye on the gardening and the work on the fence. They should count themselves fortunate that they are not being pressed into labor.