Summer didn't last too long

And where did September go? Most of what I remember of last month happened in August; I remember Labour Day only because I broke my routine and went to the AGO. Other breaks in routine- even, other sunny serene days- have left no trace. I know that memory hooks are totally random: one happened last spring sometime, a rainy day reading Rankin in the local Italian eatery; but nothing hooked this month. Have recommenced ginkgo biloba and hope for the best.

Possibly of course it's because most of this month was a saga of stabbing elbows and twinging neck nerves and much money spent on physio and natch lotsa painkillers. Especially when it's dank and mizzly, as today was.

Today's one accomplishment wasn't even mine. Two doors up's morose Son of the House heeded my constant prodding and trimmed my hedge into bare twiggery. I've not been able to touch it since May (see previous paragraph), but drought and ill-health prevented it from becoming a monstrosity. Now with dead wood removed one can see through it all along its length. My side has no green left at all, just wooden uprights like the back of a stage set. The other side still looks like a green hedge, more or less. Ruthless rimming may result in burgeoning green come springtime.
( September's sad stats )