Each morning, shortly after my feet hit the floor, I slip on my well-loved-slightly-dirty flip flops and head out to the garden to fiddle. A little watering, some deadheading, a few weeds to pull, and the hours seem to melt away. The catmint has finished blooming so I trimmed it back in hopes of enjoying a second showing later in the season. This made a certain furry creature quite interested in my garden shoes.
