Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

A cool, dry, and very breezy day in the neighborhood of Port Swiller Manor today after a bit of a scorcher yesterday. I’d almost call it “blustery”, except that word seems to be associated only with cold weather. I wonder why. Bottom line is no bugglies when I go to mow the grass in just a bit.

I may have mentioned that I have a couple of hibiscus in pots on the patio this year, just by way of trying something new. Well, after this year, never again: they’re water hogs. Not only that, they go pathetically limp and wilty the instant they think they’re too dry. Ol’ Robbo already lives with a rayther high-maintenance family. He has no patience for high-maintenance porch plants on top of that.

Well, I suppose I ought to be aboot it……

Post-Chores UPDATE: Now that Ol’ Robbo thinks about it, I’m not so sure why only a cold wind should be blustery (am I showing my cultural biases here?), so I withdraw the limitation: It was, in fact, rayther blustery this morning (and, indeed, still is). I would also modify “no bugglies” to “somewhat fewer bugglies”. Like the poor, they’ll always be with us.

The upshot is that it was a lovely morning for the latter half of June here, one which didn’t leave me so hot and worn out after mowing and trimming that I couldn’t also spend some time pruning and deadheading, two tasks at which Ol’ Robbo admits he’s not nearly as diligent as he otter be.

Alas, my weed-whacker conked out on me in mid-trim. I have no idea why, but it’s probably Putin’s fault. As is my habit with most minor annoyances, I’m just going to let this one slide for a bit. (In effect, I’m tossing a S.E.P. field around it.) Perhaps it will fix itself.

News on the fruit front is that I was able to pick a handful of blueberries on which to snack, and also a couple of very early raspberries. The blueberries will max out in the next week or two, while the raspberries will go all the way until the first frost. I also noticed a goodly number of flowers on the wild blackberries behind my back gate. It would seem this will be a fairly prosperous year. The bad side of this is that the damned wild grape is getting into everything these days.

My next trick will be the annual scrubbing down of the porch and its contents, now that pollen and mud seasons are pretty much done. But that’s not until Monday.



Ol’ Robbo has always loved his oak-leaf. The hedge behind my back fence was just about the first thing I put in when we came to Port Swiller Manor 20-plus years ago and it’s been a booming success ever since. In full bloom, it practically looks like a snow bank from the porch.

Funny, I don’t much care for the other sort of hydrangea with the round balls of flower, particularly the baby-blue and pink ones. They remind me of…..poodles. Whereas my oak-leaf reminds me of, well, “Heart of Oak”. Steady, boys, steady!