We've been "on vacation" the last few days. Ray and I still get up pretty early. Today it was after 6 for me and after 7 for him. The sky was bright by then and I spent a little time reading e-mails. My plan to get rid of 100 a week has been hiding for a while and I am back up 7500...I am not required to delete them, moving them to a file is oK too.

Ray hadn't been up too long when the phone rang...it might have been 8. Most people know that I am up early and they are welcome to call. This was my friend and neighbor Nancy H.  She has been having her chickens attacked by a raccoon, which she regularly faces down at 2 in the morning, trying to protect them. She lost one a couple days ago and another was injured. Last night, she had to get up and rescue the remaining 2 and lock them in a crate for the rest of the night. She was calling to ask if they could come stay with us until she figures out what to do to make her chicken yard and coop safe. (or get rid of the raccoon). Ray says call Mike and have him come with his gun...but I think Nancy's a vegan, I'm not sure she would go for that...It's hard to figure out the balance between farming and Nature. Just by existing, we are upsetting the balance...but then again, we are part of Nature, too, right? Using our resources to stay alive...harder to figure, though, if we don't really depend on the chickens we raise to keep us alive.

Anyway, now we have two lovely black Australorps, moved in with Gladys. She doesn't seem to object to them like the younger ones, but she's been back in the nesting box for the last 18 hours or so. The poor babies, though, are still in their coop, while Nancy's girls have the run of the run. If they would hang out in "their" (Gladys's) coop, I could close the door to that one and let the babies into the run. Or I could move the tractor around to the babies' front door and let them into that, at least.

Ray is gone to work for a bit and I am almost glad for the quiet for once. He won't be gone long and we'll figure out what to do when he comes back. If I try to move the tractor by myself, it may collapse. My Dad will probably stop by later, I'm not sure when. He is having coffee with his friend David this morning.

The garden is in pretty good shape, not much to do at the moment. Every space, pretty much, is planted. The sweet potatoes went in Tuesday. They are great. They look awful, like they were dead. But they are among the sturdiest of plants and thrive in heat and drought. The biggest challenge is the voles. Something has decimated them two of the three times we planted them. The blueberries look like they would be ready any day, but I remember this from last year. It seems to take forever...and then! magic. We have tremendous broccoli plants, but they have not put out any "fruit" yet. It seems let to me, but I don't know that we can do anything. Daddy regular dusts with DiPel to keep the cabbage worms down. The potatoes had bugs, too, but we hand-picked and sprayed them. They eat the leaves, but don't harm the potatoes themselves. They will be ready in about a month. Some of the onions have already died back, a month early. We dug them up and dried them, but they are small. Garlic is still going strong. Peas are about done. Not sure how much more asparagus we can take. The yield is low, even though we added manure. There are baby green beans that we will harvest in a few days and yellow-orange flowers on the cucumbers, melons, and squash. The eggplants were pretty much destroyed by flea beetles. One is gone. Four more are still alive, but I don't hold out much hope. Peppers are getting bigger slowly. We still have lettuce doing well and have harvested lots of radishes. Looks like we might have some pretty good carrots this year. Beets and chard were slow to start and won't like the hot. We'll see. All in all, enough to keep us busy.

As long as Ray is not teaching, I am pretending I don't have to worry about looking for work, or dealing with some other things I've got going. Even though we are home, we are trying to be relaxed. After breakfast and sudoku, we have a walk, trying to beat the heat. Then I spend a little time outdoors in the garden, weeding and checking things. Mostly, it's too hot by 10:30 or so. Lately, I spend a lot of time just watching the chickens.

If I'm on track and in the mood, I will plan and prepare meals early in the day, trying not to use the stove or oven when it's hot. Yesterday, I made a lentil and potato salad for potluck. I did the cooking part while the windows were still open. Ray's persnickety-ness often annoys me, but it can be handy. He goes around opening all the windows in the morning (or the evening) and closes them and the shades when it gets to be hotter out than in. If I don't use the stove, it stays very pleasant in the house during the morning and early afternoon.

summer Days

I woke up around 6, with the sky getting bright and the birds singing. Neither Ray nor I have anything on the schedule today. It is not official summer, according to the calendar. In Georgia, though, it's the early days of summer, when it is pleasantly warm in the morning. I don't put on a bathrobe when I get up. All the windows are open, trying to capture as much "cool" as we can for later in the day.

Yesterday, we took Molli to the shuttle for the Atlanta airport. We debated back and forth about driving her instead. We would have had a few more hours together and she wouldn't have had to leave quite so early. It was definitely the right thing to do from an environmental standpoint, though. The clincher was the certificate I had bought from a literacy fund-raiser last August (beating out another bid at the last minute). Unfortunately, when Molli made the reservation, they told her that manager doesn't work for Groome anymore. I showed them the letter yesterday morning, but they insisted I pay in the meantime, until they could consult with the manager, Jeremy Jones. The employee did not seem to understand the letter or even the concept of a fund-raising donation...somewhat frustrating, but not worth losing my cool over.

Back at home, I made a mocha chocolate cake with the last of the coffee. Coffee is one thing we have when Molli's around, but not when it's just the two of us. We took a walk and I spent a little time in the garden. The rain the day before meant that the ground was very soft, good for pulling out weeds. It began to get pretty hot and humid by about 10:30 and I mostly just sat and watched the chickens. They run back and forth in the run, chasing each other somewhat in fun, but also to determine and enforce the pecking order. Gladys, our old hen, has been broody. When I open the nest box to look at her, she glares at me. Chickens do not have a lot of facial expression, but she certainly seems very angry. I lured her down from the nest box with some wormy hazelnuts I have. She likes them so much, she makes little purring noises (like Molli did when she was little and enjoyed what she was eating). We let her into the run with the young chickens and she stalked like a battleship, all puffed up. She looked like a turkey. They avoided her and she squawked loudly, letting them know she was in charge. She attacked one of them and drew feathers (yellow legs), so we separated them again. Eventually, she returned to the nesting box for the day.

The pleasure of having new chicks is tempered with worry. Our neighbors have had predators attack chickens, especially raccoons, and I am afraid for these little ones. I am anxious to have them move into the "new" more secure coop with Gladys, as soon as I can trust her not to hurt them. The new coop is made of hardware cloth, sturdier than chicken wire. These things can't be rushed. I think Cameron (the dog) is good protection. We often are annoyed by his barking in the night, but I try to remind myself that he may be keeping something away, like a raccoon on the prowl.

I went to lunch at Lee Anderson's house. She is over 80 and lives with her daughter. They have a lovely traditional home, with a giant screened porch on the back. It has a cathedral ceiling and the view of an extra large bird feeder. There were two tables set and plenty of room left over. Linen tablecloths and monogrammed silver harked back to an earlier time. I am very fond of Lee, but speaking to her requires a conscious effort, since she doesn't hear well. There were 6 of us from our Small Group and this was our farewell event of the year. We chatted about light subjects, for the most part, and enjoyed the food the group had brought (including my mocha cake). Linda and I had two pieces. It was delicious and light. I felt bad leaving Lee with that many dishes. I hope she didn't get exhausted. She pooh-poohed my offer of help, but we did clear them.

That was the most strenuous part of my day. I looked for chard recipes for supper and went through some old papers. Ray had a nap. When it was cool enough, I went out again after supper, waiting to close the run off after the chickens had settled in the coop. It was almost 9 before they were all calmed down.

We watched Wheel of Fortune and Leverage and Doc Martin and slept well.

Happy Memorial Day!

Molli is leaving after a great, but short, visit. I am so sad, I actually cried last night, I am embarrassed to say. I haven't cried much lately--except maybe when I am reading a news article or moving part of a book. There is so much more I would like to do with her. I enjoy her company and her help and her thoughts. I am very lucky. I will see her again and talk to her many times. I am so proud of who she is and what she has accomplished, and her goals. 

She and her sister bought me chickens--5 Buff Orpingtons. They are too young to lay, and one or more may be roosters. They are fun to watch. I had been wanting some for awhile, but hadn't been able to find any. Most are sold as baby chicks, requiring a level of care I did not want to invest. My one remaining hen, Gladys, has stopped laying. She is broody, which means she sits in the nest box trying to hatch eggs. I suppose she was lonely and her instincts told her to raise some babies, but of course, she would need a rooster for that. She glares at me if I open the door. Yesterday Ray got her out for a few minutes and she squawked horribly a few times, terrifying the babies (well, they're probably more like teenagers, 3 or 4 months old). 

I could have ordered chickens this age, but the shipping is prohibitive. I had been asking around, but no one had any for sale. I had even answered a craigslist ad, but gotten no reply. Molli and Amelia told me they wanted to get me some for Mothers' Day. They read several ads and they called the lady who sold us ours a few years ago. Unfortunately, her husband died and she has stopped raising chickens, at least for now. She gave Molli another name, but she didn't have any Orpingtons (and she is in Washington, Ga--about 50 miles from here). 

She corresponded by text with some people in Winterville and we met them in the parking lot of the Golden Pantry convenience store. They had 5 in a pet carrier--lovely young bronze chickens. They told her that 2 of them are definitely hens and they wanted $20 for the bunch, so we took them all. Not sure what we will do with any (or all) of them that turn out to be roosters...We spent lots of time watching them yesterday, learning to tell them apart, wincing when they attacked the smallest one. We have named him Zephyr and are already inappropriately attached. We suspect he is a rooster, as well as one other, but won't know for sure until they start crowing. Not interested in learning how to sex chickens, although apparently I would be much in demand if I did. 

 

Our coop is complicated. Gladys lives in the "new', more secure coop. I would not put young chickens in with her, especially now that she's so grumpy. They are in the old coop. The two are attached by a run and we can open and close the doors to the run so they don't meet each other until we think they are ready. Gladys certainly has not shown any interest yet. In fact, she seems even more angry, if possible. The young ones are curious and hungry, exploring everything. They are also pooping a lot. They love being in the tractor and having grass to eat under their feet. They were fighting over a wasp and eating other insects they could catch or dig up. 

Other than that, we have had several busy days. Molli has met friends. We went to the service yesterday and stayed for the 4th Sunday lunch. We brought a big salad we had put together before we went. Other than that, none of us had any responsibilities during the service. The choir wasn't singing, Ray wasn't doing sound. It was quite pleasant. We also did a little shopping. We have a shower to go to next weekend and Molli helped me pick out what to put in my "dining room basket." I never attended a basket shower before. 

The best thing that happened yesterday is there was a thunderstorm. It started slowly and I tried to get the chicks in the coop so I could close the door. I got soaked. They huddled under the peach tree and did not go in. Eventually, I gave up. Cameron the dog was terrified. We let him in the house and he lay in the kitchen (where he was in the way), with his nose under the cabinets. The garden was dry and needed the rain, so I am looking forward to working out there today. The weeds are much easier to pull after a good soaking. Ray and Molli got the chickens into the coop after it stopped and closed the door. I made chicken for supper, which is a little weird, but we managed to eat it. We watched Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy while Molli packed. I fell asleep during Big Bang Theory, which means I was pretty tired. 

The sound of the surf makes me smile

I said I wanted to be able to see the ocean from our condo, but maybe hearing it is even more important. Like yesterday morning, the early sun is streaming in on me and the waves are crashing on the shore. Soon, I will wander down to admire them first-hand, but what a great way to wake up. As usual, everyone else is asleep. I just barely caught the sunrise myself. Perhaps I am getting used to the birds' noise. No, I think it was the fact that it was so cool last night, we closed all the windows. 

So far, no bad sunburns. 

Yesterday was boys' day. Of course, it didn't start very early and involved lots of sitting around talking and even time spent on electronic devices. We played tennis (6 of us) really badly, which was amusing and probably good exercise. We ate lunch, a variety of leftovers and some sandwiches. Most of us went to the pool, which is a long walk from here, but not far enough to drive. Nicky went to the gym. His insurance, amazingly, pays for him to get in many gyms and he has been regularly working out. Yesterday was leg day. Those who went in the ocean said he probably would have gotten enough exercise that way, since the wind and waves were strong. The pool was actually a little too cool for Amelia and me, at least without the air being hotter. Kevin went in, though. We spent some time reading or just talking..and then headed back to the condo. Nicky also stopped at the grocery store, thankfully, since we were about out of toilet paper (of course). 

After some showering and dressing, we drove off in two cars to find the mini golf. Apparently, it is closed on Mondays. Boo-hoo! We parked at the fishing pier and Grampa paid $1 each for us to walk very far out...where Molli took a bunch of pictures of different configurations...me and bonney, me and ray, amelia and molli...grampa and me and bonney...you get the idea. Then we went to Sharky's and had a lovely seafood dinner, paid for by Kevin, who didn't even eat any seafood. He found the perfect restaurant, because he and Amelia could eat pizza! After dinner, we managed to play several hands of Cancellation Hearts before some of us went to bed about 10. Molli was whipping up some strawberry margaritas, so not sure how late they stayed up. 

Bonney is up now though and I am ready for breakfast...today is girls' day--what do you think might be on the schedule?

Bonney, at 54, was making her father bacon and eggs, coffee, and toast. Patty, her older sister, had given up on reading a Barbara Kingsolver novel, one of her favorite authors. Somehow she had missed reading it yet. Such a pleasure, to have a new book from a favorite author to read. Perfect for vacation. Amelia, third generation, was reading a magazine, curled up on the couch in her pajamas and a sweater, with her fingers in her mouth, as her mother had been before she stopped reading. It was cool in the condo, although the sun was streaming in beautifully. A perfect day, with the view of the beach in the distance.

"I don't know why you are waiting on me hand and foot," said Dad...

Mark was the youngest of three, doted on by parents and older siblings. As a child, he could go where he chose in the small town. He and his friends would ride their bikes down to the docks and play along the water's edge. As long as they were home before dark, there were not a lot of rules. Anyone who saw them doing anything wrong might report them to their parents, but there were not cell phones to call them and ask where they were and what they were doing.

One time, my Dad took it into his head to ride his bike down the steep ramp leading to the dock. He thought he would be able to stop at the bottom. He could not. He walked home, dripping mud and salt water through his mother's kitchen, and changed his clothes. He was surprised when she asked him later what had happened. How did she know? The smell of mud flats still brings a smile to his face, 80 years later.

His father owned the hardware store in town. It bore his name (Collins and Freeman). He also was an auctioneer on the side. People liked him and trusted him and vice versa. He came in early and stayed late. His employees worked hard, but they were like family. My Dad could go in there and they would give him treats--small toys or candy.

When I was 5 or 6, we spent the summer in Branford. My sister and I "helped." The workers found small chores for us to do and paid us with Matchbox cars. We got them for Christmas too and had collections we compared. A fire engine...a dump truck...a race car.

My father's life took an unhappy turn. His brother died suddenly after swimming in a quarry, polio. One day he was alive and the next he was dead.

Things to take to the beach

hat
water bottle
chair
book or magazine
towel
bocce
bird book
binoculars
sunscreen
sun glasses
camera
snacks

a wagon to carry it all

I've already eaten apple cake with walnuts for breakfast, and some yogurt with strawberries picked by my daughter a few days ago. The sun is a radiating ball of fire in the sky, a few feet above the horizon. I am huddled under a blanket from the pre-dawn chill, but I won't want the blanket much longer. The birds are quieter this morning for some reason (it's Monday?) and I can hear the waves breaking on the shore. I am ready to head down to the beach, but I don't want to miss anything.

Soon, people I love will wander out of their bedrooms, stretching and yawning and rubbing their eyes. They won't be very talkative at first, but then they will start asking questions and thinking about what they want to do first.

Today is boys' day...every day, two of us get to be in charge of the day's activities. They can't ask for crazy stuff, nothing outrageously expensive or difficult, but they get to choose when we are deciding what to eat or which fun thing to do first. Shall we all play cards? Or walk on the beach? Or rent kayaks? This system simplifies decision-making for 8 people with different interests. Generally, it works well. Nobody becomes a dictator, but everybody gets a chance to say, "It's not my turn to do dishes..."

Mostly, I get a pass on cooking, because I did a lot of cooking last week. In fact, I am afraid we have too many desserts, as hard as that is to imagine. And we have an extra casserole. Kevin said last night he wants to take us all out to dinner one night. Since it's boys' day, it will probably be tonight. And I have an untouched ziti with sausage in the fridge, as well as leftovers from several other meals. I guess it will probably get eaten at some point. The other thing I'd like to do is buy some local fresh-caught seafood and cook it up...but there are more days ahead.

Now is the quiet time while I listen to the birds and the surf and wait for them to wake up and start the fun...anticipating is almost the best part.

sun rising over the next condo
birds squawking loudly and twittering and peeping and crying
pink near the horizon
hot white higher up
a beautiful day at the beach
no sound of waves

yesterday is already a blur
we drove and drove
we stopped twice
had a great lunch in Lexington SC
at Libby's
we were looking for a different restaurant
and couldn't find it
flounder sandwich
homemade potato chips
coconut cake

my Dad was tired and sore after riding for 8 hours
but we got to the island
after crossing the intracoastal waterway
so many buildings
we had no trouble finding the condo
we are on the third floor
Ray brought everything up
thank goodness for the elevator
beautiful kitchen counters
plentiful cupboards
big refrigerator
room to put away all the food I made
and Amelia's too

walking on the beach
with Maggie the dog
a wedding at the club house
a few people in clumps
but no one swimming
tide was out
so many shells
it was cold wading

Pondering Life and Death

There is a baby vole in the hole where the hose connects to the city water supply. It holds very still so I won't see it, but when I move away, I hear it peeping and squeaking, crying and shrieking, "help me, help me, help me!" If I were to decide to rescue it, it would try to escape me, and probably bite me. If I were to succeed, we would be trying to kill it in a few weeks (they grow fast), because they eat the baby plants growing in the garden and steal the food from the chicken coop. We have killed several this year. (I say "we," but Ray and my Dad have been the ones to carry out the deed, I am ashamed to say.) It is a dilemma for me to consider: what right do we have to kill them? The alternative, though, is to give up on gardening entirely, and depend on others far away to raise my food as they see fit, no doubt killing some creatures in the process.

There was a toad in the same spot earlier this week, about the same size, big for a toad, small for a vole. We needed to move it to turn the water on, to displace it from its wallow, hoping it will stay around and eat insects--just bad ones, of course (by my definition).

Who am I to decide which life to allow and which to snuff out? I pull up weeds with no qualms...I have had several tick bites this spring...nasty things that are hard to remove and leave itchy scabs. The Johnny-jump-ups in the garden I leave unless I need to plant something right there. We planted them years ago and they come back. I leave clover for the most part, on the grounds that it is good for the soil. I pull grass enthusiastically, while I bemoan its absence on the other side of the fence. I have a hierarchy of weeds...lespedezia is an invasive that grows everywhere at Kenney Ridge, displacing the native plants. It doesn't care about water or soil or heat...just grows energetically. It is probably my number one enemy weed.

There is a large peach tree in the corner of the garden. It is a volunteer. I suppose there was a peach pit in the compost that grew up along the fence and managed to escape being removed as a weed. Two years ago, I tried to pull it up but it was too well rooted. I meant to cut it down before the next year, but before I did, it had produced about a dozen lovely peaches. This year it is as tall as a one-story house and had many beautiful blossoms early in the spring. It has as many as 100 baby peaches on it--really!

There are two ironic things about this. I bought and planted two peach trees in my "orchard" about five years ago. One was doing well the first year, until the deer went crazy as the peaches ripened and knocked down the fence to get to it (a lesson for me in fence-building). Neither is much taller than me or has produced more than a few peaches each year. This volunteer is twenty times as productive, perhaps because of the work we have done on the garden soil...although its roots must go much deeper than anything we have done.

The other thing is that the tree now shades about half the vegetable garden. We are unable to plant anything in that corner, out about eight feet. Cilantro grows wild there, reseeding itself continually, like the Johnny-jump-ups. I have set in a couple pumpkins at the edge of the shady patch and we will see how they do.

When I water the plants, I am helping them to live, as well as when I add manure or compost or mulch and pull the weeds around them. I am the Mistress, the Goddess, the One Who Decides who will live and who will die.

I wonder if you have noticed, in the Spring, how the pine trees put out, at the end of their top branches, phallic chartreuse candles? Ray says, "Oh, look, the pine trees are having sex!"

At the moment, the wind is blowing the trees and the tops are waving back and forth, like seaweed at the bottom of the ocean, perhaps, or organic cartoon candelabras...perhaps in a Dr. Seuss book. The rain is coming, soon, I hope. The garden needs it. The clouds are becoming thicker and there is less and less sun.

After the pleasant days of cool mornings and evenings when I retreated indoors for a few hours and it stayed cool enough inside, it has become hotter and more humid. We are approaching Georgia summer and I am starting to think about how I can get away for a week or a month to somewhere cooler. The change in the weather may buy me a few more days when it is acceptable to be out for a few hours, weeding and tending my vegetable babies.

I was a little hysterical for a few days earlier this week. I was convinced that the job interview I had coming up was critical, the best place in the world for me to work. I had to have the perfect outfit so they would hire me. I spent about $500 in all, although I will return a few things next week. I spent many hours and cajoled all my closest friends to advise me.

I decided on the black crepe suit, but needed the right blouse for it. My good white blouse had gotten a little pink on the cuff and I wasn't sure it would show but didn't want to risk it. Also, a white blouse and black suit seemed just a touch too severe.

I spent several hours at Talbot's Monday afternoon with my patient and generous friend Becky. And, it turned out, Linda S. is now working at Talbot's! Her husband is a geology professor and we have known each other for years. Although we are not close friends, I like her quite well and was happy to have her help me shop. For one thing, she knows all the scoop about Talbot's clothes.

I foolishly did not bring the suit with me, but borrowed a black jacket and tried several blouses, a variety of colors and styles. There was a dress that I liked a lot too and Linda thought it would be fine to wear to an interview...but I would have to shave my legs. "Linda," I said, "I haven't shaved my legs since 1977 (the day I got married), and I am not going to do it for this job interview." "Why not?" she said. (This is one of the things I like about Linda). "It's wrong," I said. "You're such a hippie," she said. "Yes," I laughed, "and proud of it."

We really liked a periwinkle polyester sleeveless shell, but it didn't fit quite perfectly, bunching up above my bra. Linda advised me to get a better bra...Becky said she found wearing a camisole helped with the line of some tops. They also felt I needed a new necklace (which I thought was atrocious...but it was on sale.) "You can always bring it back," said Linda. She's good. In the end, they thought a somewhat garish red flowered shirt was the best under the black jacket. I bought several other tops, as well as the dress, and three pairs of pants (navy, black, gray). They were $80 each before the 30% off sale, and fit well...in a size 12! "Well," I said, "if I get this job, I will need lots of professional clothes."

Well, it happened! Dad sold his truck, in a pleasant and smooth transaction. A man named Mike came Saturday afternoon, in fact, earlier than expected. Ray had been back to John's for more wood and gotten home about noon to empty it and sweep it out. Mike got there about a half hour later. We were quite nervous by then, but he was very happy with the truck and had brought a cashier's check for $500 less than the asking price, which Dad was very willing to accept. After signing papers, he drove away and we said goodbye to a good and faithful truck. Dad treated us to dinner at Porterhouse, including champagne, and we all had a lovely time. At one point, he said, "it's hard to imagine that in a few months something bad will happen, and we won't be as happy as we are now." Ah, yes, fleeting happiness.

Yesterday, Ray and I had to be at UUFA at 8:15 to get ready to sing. I also had to speak briefly at both services, since I am "retiring" from the lay ministry. There are several new ministers and I will have plenty to keep me busy, and happy not to attend those long Thursday night meetings. I guess I'll go to one more this month. I also think we should have some sort of party. My Dad was there for the first service.

The thing I hate about having two services, especially when I have to be at both of them, is that the second ends at 12:30 (if it's on time). By then, I am starving. It would be one before I got home to eat, assuming I had something already prepared. I often have a snack--this time it was a banana and half a piece of peanut butter toast. Anyway, I am not in much of a mood for chatting and just want to get somewhere to eat. On this occasion, Janna and Ron, Becky and Kent were waiting for us at Five and Ten. Actually, they had already ordered, not that I blame them. Ray and I were the only ones to have alcohol (I guess some people don't drink that early in the day?), a mimosa for me and red wine for him. I had a lovely dish of sliced ribeye (a much smaller portion than I would get at, say, Porterhouse, but it came with coddled egg and several other accompaniments, including fried potatoes). Then we were the only two to order dessert. What is wrong with these people? Well, yes, I know they are all on diets for one thing. I also thing they eat out much more than we do. For us, it's a big special treat and we like to do it up right. Rhubarb flip cake, with a dab of whipped cream, of course. It was wonderful. Rhubarb is hard to find around here. We tried to grow it for a few years, but it is gone now.

I did harvest 5 strawberries yesterday. They were heavenly, but small. I would need about 50 plants to make enough to eat and freeze. Maybe it makes more sense to let Washington Farms grow them for us.

Janna's birthday is today. She had requested that we attend the Jason Carter for Governor fundraiser yesterday, so we went to the Melting Point after brunch. It was pretty hot by mid-afternoon, but we sat in the shade on the patio. There were a lot of young people there, more men than women, interestingly, and few that we knew, mostly politicians. Jason (Jimmy Carter's grandson) spoke for about 15 minutes. He is a pleasant, lucid, young man, father of 2, married to a teacher. Education is important to him. He is the only Democrat running, I believe, and so I will of course, vote for him. The Republican incumbent is pretty awful. I am cross, though, that Jason (as a state senator) voted for the "guns everywhere" bill. He was asked about it, and explained pretty clearly that he thought those decisions should be up to the communities. I don't have a lot of flexibility on that issue, though. I did write him a small check as a present for Janna.

By the time we got home, about 3:30, I think, my Dad was gone. I felt bad, but I tried to call him a few times and he never answered. He had watered some and done some other gardening. It was pleasant in the house, but hot outside. Ray and I were both tired and had trouble getting the energy to do anything. I finally managed to put away some socks and reorganize my shirts so I can find what I want to wear for my interview. We took turns reading to each other, while the other one de-cluttered some. It worked pretty well, but for the last chapter or so, we were both lying on the bed while Ray read.

Trying to figure out what to eat was hard. We didn't have much of anything in terms of leftovers. Our eggs are dwindling... I should buy some "store" eggs for baking and save the good ones (Gladys lays about 4 a week). More chickens are on my wish list. We did have some homemade bacon that Mike C. had made and given us to taste. Ray sliced off a few small pieces and cooked them up. I put in a couple slices of red onion and then some potatoes. Meanwhile, Ray washed some lettuce and we cut up some tomatoes too. So we had a BLT salad with potatoes. Pretty tasty...not quite filling enough, so we had popcorn later...

Which reminds me, it's lunch time now and I must feed myself!

Very sore from yesterday...moving slowly when I got up. Slept badly, although I would have expected the opposite. Woke with strange bad dreams...school social worker visiting family that raised fish to eat and sell for food...in terraced concrete ponds, but they were mutated...I was explaining they need to be licensed, when I realized they would probably not let me leave alive, since I might report them...

Beautiful cool sunny morning, brief walk helped clear my head. Ray loaded some junk in the truck and took it to the dump. They will recycle the metal from an old wheelbarrow, gas grill, rusty barrel, and lawnmower, so that is nice. He is finishing up the wood splitting with John and returning the splitter. Then he will bring the truck home and we will rinse it out, so it looks pretty when the potential buyer arrives at 2.

Meanwhile, I expect my Dad to come and we will keep setting out veggies. I finished the cucumbers yesterday, when it was cool again in the evening. There are about 15 of them, and not much room left for anything else! I will continue weeding and mulching. Trying to figure out where to put winter squash, melons, and peanuts. 

Death of Yesterday by M.C. Beaton
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

It's nice to have a new mystery series to read. This one is set in Scotland, in a beautiful rural area. One of my objections is the number of people killed off...there can't be more murders in this same area, or everyone would be dead! The detective/hero is a common man with flaws...Some parts are implausible, but I will try another in the series.


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Garden Day

Before the sun even showed itself this morning, I was out in my green barn coat (from LLBean), setting out the last of the bunching onions, mostly to get rid of them. They needed to get out of their pots and I needed to stop carrying them in and out of the house. It was cool and overcast, looking like it might rain. We always read the forecast, and there was very little chance of it. But it was pleasant for working outside.

Ray left before 7:30 with the truck. We are selling (my Dad is selling) the truck and someone is coming to look at it tomorrow afternoon. So Ray is spending the day helping John O. cut up and split a big red oak that came down at his house. They are borrowing a splitter from Kevin Manglitz. John has a trailer hitch, apparently. He used to trail a boat back and forth to Lake Hartwell...So they worked on that all morning.

My Dad arrived about 9:30 and we worked hard all morning, too. We set out 6 zucchini plants and a couple cucumbers. I assisted, fetching tools and water and manure and giving opinions. In between times, I sprinkled a little wood ash around some of the broccoli and green beans. I'm often doing a little weeding here and there, punctuated by periods of sitting and enjoying the weather and the view of the garden. Gladys, the last surviving chicken, is not far most of the time. I don't think she is lonely, really--I'm not sure a chicken can be lonely. But she may feel safer when someone is nearby. At one point, she was following me...and Cameron was trailing behind. We had a little parade.

At about 11:00 or so, Ray called me. He and John had loaded up the truck and they were going to bring it here and unload it, followed by lunch at our house. This was a great plan, except we didn't have anything much to offer. John was bringing ham and beer. I set about clearing the table and putting on the tablecloth. I washed a head of romaine and some broccoli. I took the sweet potato rolls out of the freezer and put them on the table in a basket to thaw. I started some sun tea on the porch. I steamed the broccoli and marinated it with canned cannellini. I sliced up a few tomatoes and put them on the table in a pretty dish. I channeled my mother and grandmother. We had a lovely lunch, with fruit and cookies for dessert.

They rushed off to get another load...Ray should be back about now, I'm wondering where he is. Grampa headed quickly to Normal Hardware to buy some more staples. We had to put the Remay over the squash plants to keep the bugs off them until they are big enough to flower and we need to let them in, at least the good ones. By now, the sun was pretty hot, but it was still a very pleasant day. Dad also set a couple  tomato plants in pots for the deck. We sat on the porch for a bit, talking and relaxing and feeling good about what we accomplished. We spend a lot of time discussing what we need to do next. It often seems there isn't enough space for everything. Pumpkins and melons take up lots of room. We don't even have the sweet potatoes yet...and I like to plant peanuts, too. We need more beans, too. Hmm.