Fall gardens. Really?

One side effect of cube dwelling is that I have lots of in-between-work times to indulge my internet obsessions. Like adding new shades of mascara to my perpetual shopping cart over at Lucky Vitamin or learning 30 ways to build a DIY pizza oven (which is seemingly the topic du jour on every blog I read). The result is that I know A LOT of things. Random things. I know that there are Brilliant Blue mice in a lab somewhere and that a weathered Frenchman has miraculously survived months of solo night fishing. Somehow, the only things that ever elicit my complete and total surprise are ... who'dve guessed — gardening blogs. I've found myself staring, mouth gaping, at a recent inundation of blog feeds headlined "Time to start your fall garden". Seriously? I can barely manage my summer one. Some time in July it rained and my cute tomato seedlings morphed into these barely manageable monster vines (along with everything else in the yard). I mean, it's like the Island of Dr. Moreau out there. Last Saturday when I was using all but one foot to tie off limbs to anything that would bear them, sweat running into my eyes, covered in mosquitoes, I couldn't help but think about people starting FALL gardens. Who ARE you people? You're super-human.