it's not fair

It's not fair how quickly one day morphs into the next before your very eyes.  I was about to write a blog yesterday when my Little Mac (as opposed to my Big Mac, desktop) allowed as how he would like to re-charge, thus silencing me for the nonce.  Not fair.  Next time I looked it was tomorrow, that is today, like now. Before I deal with today I still have to do something about yesterday.  What did I (you?) achieve yesterday?  What did I learn?  [Remember that old joke about the mother who greeted her son when he returned home from his first day at school: Oh, my angel, light of my life, hope of the future, what did you learn today?  I learned my name is Mervyn.] Yes, well. Yesterday I learned that hollyhocks will not grow on my balcony.  I started them from seeds and a  few little seedlings were bravely bobbing up in the pot the Virglinia creeper is in, ready any week now to join Virginia on the climb up the lattice at the end of my summer cottage, which I fondly call it.  I even put a plant stake into the soil beside them to encourage them and show them where to go.  But yesterday they crawled over to the edge of the pot and lay down and quit. There goes my hope of planting a vineyard. If a hollyhock won't grow up here, what chance does a grapevine have? Mabe there's time for me to learn something positive today.