Cats.

Look at this strawberry plant.

 Looks diseased. That's what my first thought was, actually. "Bummer. My strawberries have caught the dreaded spotted-strawberry-leaf plague and are going to die."

I keep them in pots on the porch right next to each other, but this one had the worst spots.

So I went the whole day thinking they were going to shrivel up and die, repeatedly making a mental note to look this up online to see what was going on (and forgetting to look it up). Then mom came along and told me she was pretty sure our cat had sprayed them. Yeah.

Here's a picture of the lovely strawberries on the not-dying plant.

It would have been nice to know the cat had peed on the plant before I ate these, but I haven't died, so whatever.

Anyway... NEWSFLASH:

It's true.

 

If you were color blind, you could play Russian Roulette, except with fruit.

In general, the grape tomato plants (I think there are three of them, but more could have volunteered when I wasn't looking) are crazy.

That huge tangle up there is all grape tomato plants, climbing up on sticks and pumpkin leaves. I desperately need to re-stake them, which is what this weekend is for!

Moving on, these were the spaghetti squash plants as of last week:

 Tomorrow I'll get pics of how they're doing now. If they're still alive. (Did I mention vine boring moths? They're here, and their larvae could probably eat these whole. Unless they're too small to bother tunneling into. Spare the baby squash plants, vine borers! And then forget to come back for them.)

Also, last week pics of the okra. This is Lil Mac, measuring 17 inches.

I wonder where that meter stick came from...?

And here's Rocky, at 26 inches.

Okra is awesome. Nothing touches it. Not deer, not too many bugs... it's, like, the perfect vegetable. Too bad it's slimy and gross if you don't fry the heck out of it. 

I also measured the patty-pan squash plants-- they're about fifteen inches. 

 

 Let me also take a second to say that I hadn't the foggiest idea these squash were called "patty-pan" squash. I thought "patapan" or "padapan" or something. At least that's what I've been calling them. I had to look the spelling up online, and it's "patty-pan". Who knew. 

They were kind of lying down in this picture, so it was harder to get a good measurement. (Too much beer? Ha. Really, I accidentally blasted them with the hose when I was watering.)   

In other squash news, the zucchini has so far resisted the attacks of the squash bugs and vine borers by being less appetizing than the pumpkins. At least, that's all I can figure-- I've cleaned eggs off of their leaves maybe once or twice all summer, as opposed to the five or six bi-weekly cleanings the pumpkin leaves get.

The picture's upside down, but I thought it looked kind of cool, so I left it this way. 

Wouldn't it be neat if zucchini could grow on the ceiling? If I ever live in space, I'm going to have a zero gravity garden so I can do that.

I have harvested two pumpkins to date.

These two, to be exact. They are the most beautiful pumpkins ever, except for this one that's growing on the corner of the porch.

A perhaps precarious perch for a pumpkin, but possibly impervious to persnickety pests.

 (Not true. Also, ouch. But the alliteration was too good to pass up.)

And this particular vine DOES have a Joe-esque guardian, only on a larger scale.

Praying mantises are the ninjas of the garden.

Right, one more pumpkin picture.

Dun dun DUN.

If this one keeps till October, I'm set.

Also, tomatoes!

The red and yellow streaks are to show how crazy they are. The blue circle is the force field the okra plant has put up in case things get out of hand.

This is a pumpkin bloom.

Like a starfish, but with bees and it's not in the water.

Sneaky little cantaloupe, growing down in the shade of the pumpkins.

Baby cantaloupe! It's super fuzzy and cute. 

Also growing in the shade...

... soon they will be pulled...if I can reach them without trampling the tomatoes, cantaloupe, and pumpkin vines. You chose your hideout wisely, weeds, but your days are still numbered.

Really, I was focusing on pulling weeds in the flower garden that day, which, thanks to my cat Patch, was an incredibly productive venture.

I forgot to take a picture of how awesome and clear it looks now. (At least, the front of it's alright, and there are no more horse nettles.)

We also had a garlic plant growing in there, so I harvested it! It's decidedly delicious, and here's a picture of the cloves.

I planted all but two of these, so we'll hopefully have three garlic plants come next spring. Or four. A super tiny clove fell off when I pulled up the plant, so four is my guess.

There's another new addition to the gardening area, too. (Well, the far edge, anyway.)

 Crepe Myrtle. It's been chilling on the front porch since mom brought it home, and all of its leaves have fallen off. Probably not a great sign, but it's still alive and it's in the ground now, so we'll see what happens. Maybe it'll be so happy, I'll go back tomorrow and find a giant crepe myrtle towering over the house!

The shade would be welcome. A break from the crazy heat in the middle of the day would be excellent.

 

You know it's a Virginia summer when your rubber wrist band melts to your stick shift. It's too bad I took it off of there, come to think of it. I could have left it there for good and had a melty smear of red with the words "Go for it!" maybe still intact. Maybe. 

Fortunately, there's always the indoors, where cats and tigers can co-exist in mutual coolness.