Around Rosie's Yard.

Every morning I take Beau out

and we play "Cone."

 There are no rules

and it's a stupid game.

As best as I can tell, 

I'm supposed to kick cones
and Beau blocks them.

 Beau is guarding his cones.

 Something from the wildflower package.

 Don't know what it is.
Anybody?
Mar?

 ETA:  Once again, MyGalMar

has identified yet another little puzzler of mine.

It's Cheiranthus.

Thanks, Mar.
And that would be my friend
and fellow blogger, Marilyn,
of Foodies Untie blogdom.

 Beau always likes to check out the pier.

 

There are many interesting aromas on our pier.

Bait.  Fish.  Chum.

And, of course, nutria and/or otter excrement.

Dixie used to love to roll in it.

Then she'd come to the sliding glass door,

lookin' all hang-dog,

and when I opened the door for her,

I could immediately smell it.

Once you smell it, you don't forget it.

It's unique.

Dixie would lower her head

and slink up the steps to the bathroom.

She would deliberately roll in this shit

so I would have to give her a bath.

 I love the color of these irises.

A little bug in the petals.

 It's windy.