If I didn't know someone was coming to take care of my weeds and high grass, I'd get awfully depressed just looking out the window. Sometimes I feel sad about it anyway, because I know I've let it get to the point where the garden isn't fun any more. The weeds are creeping up onto the back porch and getting ready to invade the house. It's a good thing I have a gardener who promised to be here this week.

This was the day I was expecting him. We had a little rain yesterday, but other than that it's been mostly dry for three days in a row. That's the best stretch we've had since in about a month. I'm tempted to get out there and pull stuff up myself, but I know it would just be busy work. Anything I could do would be a tiny speck compared the immense job at hand.

One other thing I want to do is refill the bird feeder. I'm not sure why I've waited, but I had this idea in my head that I didn't want it to be full while the gardeners were using their noisy equipment. One thing I know for sure is that the birds will return as soon as I fill it. Maybe the big ugly cowbirds will forget about it and I'll get my finches and sparrows back.

The only birds using the yard right now are the insect-feeders, like the black phoebes. They absolutely love the high grass, and they'll probably be disappointed to see it go. They never leave the place, though. I see more of them than any other species. The orioles have been darting in and out of the trees as well. If anything can cheer me up, it's those colorful birds chattering in my garden. They don't care about the weeds.

The hawks at the end of my driveway, the ones that live high in the eucalyptus trees, have a new addition. The baby hawk is learning to fly, and it's having a hard time keeping up with mom and dad. It has to flap its wings furiously sometimes, just to stay close, but when it glides it has the same majestic profile in the sky as its parents, except in miniature.

The cats still come around, event though there are fewer birds for them to stare at. Earlier this week I was sitting in my chair reading (or possibly dozing), and I heard a low-pitched moaning sound just outside the front window. I got up and looked out to see a black cat and a white cat facing up against each other. They both ran when I rattled the blinds. We don't allow feline fisticuffs in this establishment, no exceptions.

The deer are back, too, although the grass is so high I can't see them until they're right by the house. That gardener is coming soon, isn't he?

Tim kept me on the phone for an hour this afternoon, telling me all about his plans for the future of the company. He thinks the Boss is not enthusiastic enough about all the new possibilities that apparently exist to expand the business. I'm not very enthusiastic myself; I like things the way they are. But I listened, and when he asked if I was listening and not just patronizing him, I said, quite patronizingly, that I was.

I pretty much have to be part of whatever direction he moves in, because nobody knows when the Boss will retire. As long as it's just more work, and not relocating or learning how to use power tools, I'm happy to sign on to the program. Well, not happy exactly. Game, I guess.