There are few days during the summer when it isn't so hot you cringe when the sun rises in the morning. At best, you have a few hours when it's actually pleasant to be outside and you don't have to look down to make sure the soles of your shoes aren't melting into the ground. 

Despite those inconvenient facts, I continue to attempt to make our little back deck area an inviting place to be. Whether that's for 5 minutes or an hour or for an alfresco dinner, such as we had last night. (Grilled chicken with peach barbecue sauce, roasted red potatoes and yellow squash, Sister Schubert rolls aand peach tea! Dessert was Edy's fruit popsicles for the kids and Magnum ice cream bars for me and Kyle. Yum!)

 The climbing flower I planted to take over the railing has, in fact, done so. At least on the right side of the deck. And it is so lush and inviting! I used to have a chair up against the rail on the other side of the table, but sitting there felt like a stranger was poking you in the hair. So I scooched the whole table into the corner, planted some herbs in colorful little pots and repositioned the chairs.

 I have a thing for succulents, but have never actually planted any. This year I did. This one is called the Elephant plant and it is apparently something that elephants really eat. In enormous quantities. 

 According to my "Scented Container Plant" book, chives and thyme pair well together. Ok, I'm game. I used some of the chives just today to make an omelet with chives, mint and tarragon! Sweet!

 Although the paint on my Adirondack chairs is starting to flake off due to the extremes of cold and heat, I still enjoy them. One of these days we'll recoat them. Meanwhile, you just dust off your bum when you stand up. 

A year or so ago, my brother Chad gave me a teeninesy Japanese maple he'd salvaged from a client's yard. It was probably a foot tall when he gave it to me. I have since repotted it twice and it is thriving! And fills the corner beside our chimney quite perfectly.

And call me crazy, but I have the world's most unruly wisteria tree in my front yard. Kyle and I have bets on whether it could actually consume our whole front yard. Not only is the wisteria in our front yard well established, it's determined to reproduce every year. It's fuzzy little rock hard pods dangle temptingly from the tree all summer until at some predetermined time in the winter, every one of them shatters. It's like a big suicide pact. From the inside of my house, it sounds like someone is dropping little pieces of glass and shattering them on the driveway.  The result? As soon as the weather gets warm in late May or early June, my entire yard is sprouting little wisteria plants. Like those pictured. I decided I would see if I could train them into a mini "weeping" version of what's taken over my front yard. Kyle thinks I'm nuts to even give it a shot in the backyard. He may be right. Or, my plan may completely flop. We shall see.