In answer to...

...yesterday's post question. Google is so informative:  the orange protuding stalk which arose from the mulch in my front yard the other day is most likely known as Stinkdog Dog Stinkhouse Mushroom. Some call it Mutinus Ominous, named for its resemblance to a dog's whatsit. That's good; the orange color could have been named after...oh, never mind.

What is it??!!!

This thing was not here 2 days ago.  It's orange, protruding from the ground in front of the rosebush at the front of my house. And attracting flies, or some kind of bug. I'd dig it out but don't want to go near it.

In its flaccid state.

T.U. Crossword Tourney Warmups

Looks pretty simple---must be trying to lure contestants in.

Last Throes of Summer

That's all there is; there ain't no more.

Not ME TOO, but NOT ME

  The truth will out. It's not a matter of who wrote the NYT OP Ed, but when the writer becomes known. If not an outright admission of authorship, circumstantial evidence almost certainly will leave little doubt.
   Case in Point:  For most of this summer. I've had to pick up a discarded Stewart's coffee cup from my front lawn, a neatly mowed lawn, I may add.  Not just occasionally, but almost every weekday. You might  think the litterer would remain anonymous forever, since there is no security camera, but, Aha! the evidence shows otherwise.
   As I picked up the cup, and its related debris, napkin, food wrapper, I would speculate as to who would toss it on my lawn. I ruled out vengeful former students: there weren't that many, and they would have outgrown that phase by now anyway. I formed a profile---someone who lived in or toward Johnsonville, probably male and youngish, possibly a night shift worker enroute home who just happened to finish his coffee as he drove by my house. So nothing personal, just someone who doesn't mind tossing his trash on the property of other people.     Yesterday when I picked up the usual offerings, there, alongside the Stewart's  cup lay this coffee-stained envelope:

Summer Remnants

Self seeding morning glories near the deck and climbing a goldenrod on mailbox; A 3-foot tall basil plant in pot, Rose of Sharon being devoured by Japanese Butterbur, indolent dahlias just thinking about blooming now, and survivor cat having lost 5 teeth and gained an insatiable appetite. Go figure

Overshoes

  Time was when all kids wore them, since they played outside all day long, including snowy and rainy days. Overshoes  were all the same,of rubber,  always black, and just plain ugly, though since there was no other choice nobody cared about looks. They fastened on one side with a kind of button and loop closure, which frequently broke and could be replaced, sort of, by slipping a jar rubber over the foot. Overshoes were notoriously hard to put on, as they pulled on over your shoes, and besides they most likely were from the year before, or hand-me-downs, and a very snug fit.
   We kids would often have difficulty pulling them on and so our mother, so busy with other household tasks, would have to stop what she was doing to help us. I can still hear her exasperated voice saying, "The snaps go on the outside!"
   I remember being too young, or just too clueless, to know what she meant. Of course the snaps would be on the outside. And whatever the outside of the foot was meant nothing to me. We never questioned her: we were in a hurry to get outside and she was in a hurry to get back to her chores. But now I get it.