I was one of those lucky country mice. I used to wander around the hills and fields and horse trails where I grew up on Silt Mesa. These were the secret sections of time that seemed necessary in order for me to function, even as a very young person. In short, I need alone time. I always have. And for it to be really useful, it needs to be in the middle of nowhere surrounded by a lot of everything that grows and gives and doesn't have a single right angle on it.
So, I saw a lot tonight. I honestly had no idea that so much beer is consumed along this road. Nothing you can do with a broken down can but toss it out the window, I suppose. And the *swish*swish* of tall grass took me immediately to the fields of alfalfa at home. I can't hear it without going somewhere farther inside to some place I need to be more responsible for, I think. Anyway, here's the story, morning glory.
Too much rain. Last night brought over 4 inches. You can see my rows washed away.
I may be looking at another trip to the seed store. It's kind of a bummer because these were the ones I saved back and threshed and put away in a jar marked "green bean." They aren't the last seeds on earth though, and like I told Lynn and Fred, I don't plan on giving up until September.
At least my potatoes are looking good. But why wouldn't they? They're potatoes. Potatoes are always good.
The peonies refuse to open, and I don't blame them. It's been too cold. I recently read that you want to wait to plant your starters until the peonies open. This would explain why half my tomato plants have died, too. I didn't take a picture because it's too hard to look at.
After a hard rain mushrooms and frogs pop up everywhere. Literally. They stick to your windows, the frogs do. I don't like having all the mushrooms around for poisonous reasons. And I don't particularly like driving over frogs either.
I have been pining to be out here cutting and filling vases full of these things and putting them all around the house. Tomorrow.
I'm crazy about poppies and Ila planted so many on the place, I think she must have known or something. How can you look at that color and not want to do something brave, something worth remembering?
Drat. I accidentally let the asparagus go to seed. That's it for the asparagus this year.
You especially want to know how to plant a straight row if it'll be there for hundreds of years. Most of the windbreak is too overgrown to walk through but not this section, and I fell in love at first sight. I just walked back and forth--it's a lot longer than it looks in this picture.
I had a pretty good talk with my neighbors. Here they are staring at me.
Looks like Fred is in the same boat I am. This section of field is always flooding. Luckily we're at the point where I can tease him about getting fish stuck in the cornhead. He goes out there and takes pictures of the big birds that will eventually claim this as home. I think he actually wants it to flood just so he can watch all the wildlife move in. Or maybe not. Maybe he's just making use of a situation that is what it is.