Saturday, June 28

Blueberries winding down...Liz picked twice, gave some away, but many in the freezer..and some out for tomorrow's pancakes. My Dad and I dug the rest of the potatoes this week. I hope we eat them all before they go bad.

It's almost pleasant for a couple more minutes. Some of the windows are still open and the fans are going. I have already had a short walk and a bath. I'm wearing clean clothes and nothing itches too much right now!

We didn't pick berries this morning. They are winding down and Ray helped me pick last night. I'll probably check them again this evening. I also picked 3 little round cucumbers and both green and yellow beans. I started washing and cutting up the beans this morning, but still have some to do. I try to balance and not overdo, so I don't hurt my back or burn out too seriously.

Attempted action shot of chickens jumping/flying up to get berries.

The "baby" chickens are almost as big as the adults now, although none are laying yet. We are reliably getting two eggs almost every day, from Nancy's chickens. The injured one (I named her Winifred) doesn't lay. In fact, she doesn't jump up to a perch, but she walks just fine. We keep her isolated in the small coop for the most part, because one of her sisters pecks at her when she gets the chance. I am looking forward to Nancy taking them back. All the grass from the run and tractor is completely gone.

summer

It’s hard to imagine a time when you had to sit on Sundays and not do anything that could be considered work. I am bored to death and I have lovely options. I read my book, I read my e-mails, I look at cookbooks. Sometimes I do a little food prep.—cutting up onions or something, but no cooking. It is over 90 outside and I am like a kid, watching the clock, only I watch the thermometer. As it gets a little cooler later in the day, I will go outside and let the chickens out. I might pick some more blueberries. 

We had a nice lunch at Loco’s—my Dad, john and deb, john and gini. My Dad had suggested we go somewhere different from DePalma’s. He was having some digestive discomfort and thought Italian might not be good. We had a very good lunch at Loco’s and I thought about why we prefer depalma’s generally. It is the atmosphere, I think. Loco’s is full of TV sets and people dressed pretty casually. I think DePalma’s is a step up, although the food is not any better and the menu, which is interesting, doesn’t have the main dish salads that we seem to prefer. Ray always orders chicken caesar. Now that the service is at 10:30, we usually try to order wine when we get to the restaurant, but they tell us, “no alcohol until 12:30.” Daddy was puzzled today—why did this just start to be a problem? The answer is because we used to get there an hour later…just about 12:30 at the earliest. 

So here we are home with nothing we have to do…too hot to go outside, no need to cook (and truthfully, no energy). Ray has been sleeping a lot the last few days, fighting off a cold. He seems much better today, but is working on his computer. I assume he has a lot of work to catch up on for his class. 

Where did June go?

Here it is, almost the end of June and I don't know what I did all month. There are lots of containers in my freezer, full of blueberries and green and yellow beans. There are also some potatoes. We have been trying not to use electricity between 2 and 7 on weekdays. And my Dad was in the emergency room. Those are the highlights, pretty much. The chickens got bigger, and they are still alive. Between the garden and the eggs, we don't need many groceries. We get this great box of organic produce every week, but I have cut down from the family box to the standard size.

more blueberries, and still more to pick

Rain and overcast today, although not really enough to measure. Still better than hot and dry. I went out about 5, when it was a little cooler. Although the sun did not shine on me, the humidity was incredible. I am very sweaty. The chickens (the young ones) were allowed some liberty while I was out and seemed to stay close to me, maybe in part because I occasionally threw them a berry that wasn't good enough for people.

There was a large slug, bigger than I have seen around here before, with dark markings on its back, hanging out in the pine mulch under one of the bushes. Also our nearly tame brown thrasher was never far away.

More rumbles and cracks of thunder; maybe we will have more rain!

Chicken jumping up to eat blackberries

Sadly, I am no longer excited about picking blueberries. I have at least 6 quarts in the freezer and I am almost keeping up. There are almost as many yellow beans. My dad picked those today, so all I have to do is wash them. My shoulders are sore, and I have bites, but it's fine.

Just finished reading A Woman of Independent Means, by Hailey. A smart and fun book, the story of a woman's life told through her letters to others. It must have been challenging to convey all that happened that way. She lived most of her life in Dallas, but travelled extensively.

Of course, now you know my secret. I was reading in the middle of the day, for pleasure. I went to a doctor's appointment this morning, even though I didn't want to, and so I treated myself to a few hours lying in my bed, reading. I had trouble falling asleep last night and so am tired today. I thought maybe I woulld sleep, but the rest seems to have done me some good, anyway.

Ray is asleep on the couch as well. It was very overcast and drizzly earlier, although the sun is out for a moment now. We may still have more rain, but at least it has not been quite so hot today, just over 80 now.

It is "blackout" time, so all the lights and fans are off. I even put off opening the refrigerator to start working on supper. There will be time later.

We did get our usual walk in, although I didn't pick any berries this morning. Perhaps I will in an hour or so.

Last night was a huge party for Tanya, the AFS exchange student from Denmark, who is returning this weekend. I have enjoyed being her liaison, although it is a bit like standing outside the candy shop, peering in. Of course, I am very happy that she has bonded so well with her host family, and I remember how sad it can be to say goodbye.

Monday Monday

I am tired and don't feel good. I did a lot of fun things this weekend, but something didn't agree with me...or I picked up a bug. Bouts of diarrhea off and on Saturday, Sunday and today. No need to go into details. I didn't sleep well last night and probably not the two previous nights. However, it could be worse. I could have to do something or go somewhere today.

My Dad came at 6:30 this morning. Ray had been up for hours. I jumped up and put on my clothes and went down to have breakfast with him. Ray actually cooked him bacon and egg, as well as getting out my yogurt, etc. I didn't have peanut butter, it may be a little hard to digest. Just yogurt and fruit and some old bread.

Daddy headed out about 7 to pick the yellow beans and make the first circuit of the gardens. Ray and I headed out on a walk. I felt okay after that. I was picking blueberries and then my Dad asked me to help him dig potatoes. It was already kind of hot and not easy on the back. There's a good batch of potatoes drying now, though, and we only dug about half of them today. He watered that garden extensively, although we are looking forward to rain today or tomorrow...really looking forward to it.

I picked lots of berries, mainly from only two bushes. There are lots more, but by 10 the sun was starting to reach me and I called it quits. I went in and gave my Dad some of the spinach vichyssoise I made Saturday. He agreed it is amazing and I sent some home with him. I washed the beans and he took some of them and all the zucchini. I still have to cut up and freeze the yellow beans. There are several cucumbers, too. Ray eats them mainly, but I will sometimes, too.

June 13

My days are similar. None is exactly the same, but they usually have certain elements. 

On weekdays, Ray and I wake up early. Sometimes I get up first, more often he does. These days, it is light by 6:30, even when it’s overcast. I like waking up to the light. We don’t use an alarm clock, except if we have to catch a plane or something. 

I spend the first hour or so of the day reading e-mail and doing other computer stuff. I read recently that is not good, because you are letting other people dictate how you spend your time. On the other hand, I like to stumble out to the computer, half awake, just as some people used to read the paper and drink coffee to start their day. Some days, I get bored and ready to do something else in less than an hour. Other days, I could sit for three hours. 

I put in my contacts somewhere about now. At the same time, or later, I pull on some clothes lying around from yesterday, usually jeans and a t-shirt. I saunter downstairs and start the process of getting breakfast. It is not hard. I slice some homemade bread and put it in the toaster oven, turning the dial without really looking at it. It comes out right, not burned, but toasted. I get out the yogurt, mine and his. He likes nonfat plain. I prefer low fat vanilla. If I run out, I can eat his, but I usually add some honey. It doesn’t mix in that well and never tastes right to me. 

I get out the measuring cup, usually 1/4 cup, the yellow plastic one, on top of a stack of them in the first drawer on the right. I scoop two scoops of yogurt and put it in the striped bowl. I don’t worry about getting all the yogurt. I set the scoop on the top to the yogurt container, knowing Ray will use it after me, put my yogurt away, and clean out the scoop thoroughly. 

I help myself to a pear from the fruit bowl (or sometimes another kind of fruit). It was a wedding present from Uncle Paul 32 years ago. It was a good gift, useful and attractive and durable. I peel off the sticker, open the trash drawer, and stick it on the inside of the trash bag. I rinse the pear under the faucet in the sink. Every step of the way, I could be admiring all my wonderful kitchen features—I remember ordering the sink and faucet from Ikea, for instance. I picked out the cabinets. 

I select a sharp knife from the block on the counter…they are all familiar and good ones. Some were chosen for me by my daughter, who worked in a kitchen while she was in college. She couldn’t stand my dull old knives when she came home, and we found them at a garage sale! 

If the pear is perfectly ripe, as they have been the last few days, it cuts up beautifully, dripping a little. I hold it over the bowl, so as not to lose any juice. I put the innards in my husband’s bowl. He hates waste even more than I do, and will eat all the good parts right up to the core before composting a very small amount. I cut the pear into quarters and then each quarter into four or more pieces, letting them fall into the yogurt. I add a shake of cinnamon from the container on the lazy Susan. It’s one of my mother’s, although the cinnamon has been replaced many times. Today we used it up and got some more from the pantry. Ray carefully poured it into the little jar. I am very bad at those kinds of tasks that require fine motor control and care. I often make a mess on the counter, and we don’t want to waste any cinnamon, do we? I put the empty plastic bag near my purse on the other side of the counter. It will remind me to get more at the natural foods store. It is cheaper there and I won’t have to use a new container. I can just refill that bag, at least a few times. 

I get out the spoons and a table knife. The peanut butter stays on the table now, since we use it every morning, at least as often as salt and pepper. I put the toast on a small plate and carry it over, along with the bowl of yogurt and fruit. I make sure my book of Sudoku is by my place, with a pencil. I sit down and take a bite of yogurt. It tastes so good, the first food of the day. I spread peanut butter on my toast, and then I alternate bites of yogurt with bites of toast. After a bite or two, I start working on the sudoku puzzle. I have worked through this book for more than a year and am now in the section labeled, “Tough Puzzles.” I have done several successfully, but they may take more than one day. Today I did not finish the one I was working on before I got up from the breakfast table. 

Ray went upstairs. I thought he was getting ready to go for a walk. I started working on dinner, a spinach and mushroom frittata. I had looked for something that I could make ahead, since we aren’t using the stove between 2 and 7, because of our special electric rate. 

I got out some of the ingredients, cut up an onion and minced three cloves of garlic, putting the peels in the compost bin. I sautéed them in a little olive oil in the big nonstick frying pan. I put away some of the clean dishes Ray had washed the night before while I was waiting. I got the bag of spinach out of the fridge. He called down, “I guess I won’t be walking today. I’m just going to take my shower.” “Darn,” I said, “we’ll have to start getting going earlier.” “Yes,” he agreed. “I’m sorry.”

When the sautéed vegetables (with thyme) were almost ready, I turned the pan off. I stirred them around a bit. I put on some outdoor shoes, fed the dog, and grabbed the net bag I pick produce into. I let the chickens out of their coops and into the run, noting to myself again that they have cleared it completely and we need to do something to give them access to more green grass. I have tried letting them out a few times, but they don’t seem to know enough to come back and it’s pretty stressful. I watch them very closely; I’m not sure they know about hawks and other dangers. 

Anoles mating

Ray headed out and I picked blueberries. It was wet from the rain the night before, but pleasantly cool before 9. My Dad arrived while I was out picking. He picked some beans and studied everything. He helped me move the chicken “tractor” to a grassy place (with the 5 young chickens in it). We went inside and I helped him with his computer and he made a few phone calls. Meanwhile, I kept on with my cooking, cooking the spinach (just barely, no added water), and adding it with the sauté to beaten eggs, and putting the whole thing back in the pan with more oil. It’s all set and can be eaten at room temperature (so I don’t have to violate the electricity ban). I started working on a vegetable side dish—a la Grecque. I remember my Mom making vegetables a la Grecque, but this recipe called for boiling them in a mix of water and wine. I’m kind of funny about cooking with wine—I hate to waste it. a little for flavor I don’t mind, but 2 cups of white wine seemed excessive. I asked my Dad and he didn’t remember our recipe involving cooking—just dress the cooked vegetables with the typical olive oil, etc.

After he left, I abandoned the cooking for the moment. The frittata was the critical thing and it was set. I headed for the computer, my precious alone time. (You’d think I would find something better to do than describe my day in detail). I plugged away for a while, until the phone rang at noon. 

My neighbor, Liz, calls every day about this time. She is coming to take my dog for a walk. She says he is a good influence on her dogs. I think she feels like I neglect him by not walking him enough. Some days he gets 5 or 6 miles with Ray and me, plus about the same with Liz, I think. I consider a mile a long walk…but Cameron is always ready to go. I went downstairs and let him out and wondered how long it would be before Ray came home. 

Cameron is afraid of thunder

Amelia's recipe for chocolate chip cookies

I am not very good at postponing meals and was pretty hungry. I had a cookie to tide me over and looked for some more recipes for Vegetables a la Grecque. I found my Mom’s, but it was as Daddy said, not the kind where you cook them in marinade. There were several on the internet. Most use wine, but in smaller quantities, so I poured 2 cups of water, some vinegar and some white wine in a pot, with a tea ball with pepper, tarragon, rosemary, and some other herbs. By the time it had boiled a little, I had a potato peeled and cut up and ready to cook in it. I prepped some beans and some yellow squash to add when it was done. Still no Ray, but Liz came back from the walk and we chatted a bit. I hate standing and talking, but if I invite her to sit, she usually says she has to leave. 

So… cooking, gardening, chatting with my Dad and Liz…is it a good life? There is certainly much to be grateful for in it. Plenty of good food, beautiful, luxurious surroundings…dogs and chickens…but still, maybe not what I would have described as my ideal…? Not productive enough? 

My schedule is a little discombobulated today.

I woke at 6:30, which is latish...and Ray was still asleep. I turned on my computer, and before I could even open the e-mail program, Cameron started barking.

"I know what that means," I said to myself..."Grampa's almost here." He had warned me the day before, even almost asked if it was okay. "Sure," I said, "I'll be up." "The only way I can get in the garden early enough," he said, "is to get up and drive here before breakfast." I reminded him to have some coffee and juice, but said I had ham and eggs and toast for him.

I threw on some clothes and hurried down to greet him and get started on breakfast. It was certainly light enough, and it was even cool enough to open the windows for a bit. I made toast for both of us and he cut up some bits of ham, which I scrambled with an egg for him, in a little butter. I cut up a peach into my yogurt and brought him the butter and jam, as well as plates and utensils. I don't remember what we talked about, but soon we could hear Ray stirring, and he came downstairs.

"You're up early," my Dad said. Things like this annoy Ray inordinately. Me, too, to some extent. "I have to teach in a couple hours," he said. "He slept in today," I said.

I headed out to pick the berries from the bushes farthest from the house. They are the ones in the sun most of the day and I wanted to get them before it got hot. My Dad was out soon after me, and he picked the yellow beans. He dug a couple potatoes, too, and then set up the sprinkler to water that garden. Ray and I headed out with the dog for a brief walk. "You weren't gone long," said my Dad when we came back. "Nope," said Ray. "I have to get going."

In the house, Ray played the answering machine back for me. It was my friend MJ. I was looking forward to a play date with her this morning, going to Watkinsville to look at yarn, and have lunch. She invited me to go to her Jazzercise class first and I agreed, a little nervously. The yarn store is closing. It has beautiful stuff and it is on sale now.  I suppose I do not need yarn; I have quite a lot of it. I have not been to the store often, because I buy cheaper yarn at Joann Fabrics. This is inconsistent with my philosophy. I should buy local, and buy good yarn, even though it costs more. Part of it is having to drive a little farther, so going with MJ and combining several activities makes it better. And being on sale is good too. I am sorry they are closing though.

Anyway, she was surprised I had not checked e-mail this morning. That is my dependable routine and, of course, the one time it really mattered, I had not done it! Her daughter has an infection and needs some blood work, so we will go another day. This made my Dad happy anyway.

Ray got ready for work and I went back outside. Daddy picked some zucchinis, one of a decent size, and several cucumbers. I washed the blueberries, the cucurbits, and put the potatoes to soak. I moved the sprinkler to the other garden and he came inside to check his e-mail and read the online newspapers. He doesn't have internet at home.

It was probably 11 before he left and I read some and puttered in the kitchen, starting work on a salad for tomorrow night. We are having company and I am making the spinach vichyssoise that was so good and a Mexican pasta salad. I soaked some pintos overnight and cooked them this morning, but I think they are falling apart too much to use. I'm sure we will eat them sometime, but I might just use canned beans for the salad. I chopped scallions, tomatoes, and red pepper and put them in a container in the fridge. I juiced a couple limes, too. I will prep the yellow beans for freezing later today.

I spent a really hot hour yesterday letting the Buffs roam around the yard and then trying to get them back in. It took two us--Ray is actually much better at it than I am. They are young and inexperienced and I'm afraid something will get them because they don't know better. They also haven't learned to come when we call them, and don't seem motivated by food. I was horrified to find that their water was dry and filled that up, but it did not entice them either...probably wouldn't know enough to come in out of the rain...

One of the hens is cackling, so we might be getting an egg. Somebody tried to crow this morning, so it won't be long before one of our young Buff Orpingtons goes away. Not sure which one yet. I will be sad, but I can do it. 

I ate the last of the cookies yesterday, so had to make more. I started to mix the dough, but put it in the fridge overnight. I thought of it pretty early this morning, but it was too hard to work with for an hour or so. We had breakfast and went for a walk and then I had to come in and bake cookies. It was really a little too hot to have the windows open, but sometimes you just have to bend the rules a little. There not really rules, anyway, just guidelines! They are oatmeal-raisin cookies and they didn't really turn out right. They spread and stuck to the pan, so it was hard to get them off in one piece. They're not very pretty. But, I just had one and they taste pretty wonderful. I used butter instead of Crisco, in the name of using less processed and packaged things. The weather probably didn't help, but if I had put in a little more flour, they would have held together better. Fortunately, they are not for any special event, but for me! (and my Dad). 

I watered the big garden last night for almost an hour, so that was good. There are a couple small zucchini and some cucumbers I left for my Dad to pick. Most everything looks pretty healthy, except those *C**c>?>< broccoli. I guess we should just dig them up and plant something else. I dug up the garlic this morning--they are maybe the best ever, beautiful big heads. They're drying on the front porch now. I'll get my Dad to pick out the best ones to plant in the fall. The potatoes are ready to dig too. 

Yesterday, Gini came for me to help with her computer. We downloaded Quicken from the App Store and she is excited about it. They have a new (used) Prius--and a new Credo iPhone...copycats! 

Last night was a small potluck and choir rehearsal. I made a lentil-apple-potato salad that was pretty good. I think there's some left over, too.

I picked two pounds of blueberries yesterday and two pounds of yellow beans. When we came back last night, I had to cook and freeze them, so we got to bed kind of late, especially because the episode of Miss Fisher that we watched was a little more intense than they usually are. 

I probably could have picked more beans this morning, but the cookie baking took up some of my best outdoor time. That bed was in sun by the time I got out again. The three blueberry bushes near the house were still shaded, though. I picked another pound and a half--amazing! And a few blackberries as well. They are all really beautiful this year. 

Picking the blueberries is almost a meditative activity for me. The birds are singing, Cameron is nearby. Sometimes I hear a chicken noise. I have to focus and refocus to see the ripest, blue-black berries among the green leaves and brown branches. There are clumps of light-green small hard berries. One or more may be turning pink or even dark purply-red. I check the ones that might be ready by pulling gently on them. If they resist, I leave them until they are riper. The sweetest, tastiest blueberries fall into your hand when you tug the slightest bit. 

blueberries and wax beans

Oh My God! So many beans, so much to harvest!

I slept latish and waked reluctantly. Ray was up working somewhere else in the house. A half hour on the computer did not completely rouse me. But it was too light and getting hot fast. Ray had all the windows open and it was coolish, although damp. The thermometer said 69 out, definitely cooler than inside.

I sliced bread for toast, put peach and blueberries in yogurt--yum! Such a treat, with a little cinnamon. That wakes me up happy. A little peanut butter on the toast. I try the sudoku. I am in the "Tough Puzzles" section of a book Elisa gave me for Christmas a year and a half ago. Ray and I take turns, but we can't get it. Must get outside before it is hot.

The chickens explore the back!

I put on my shoes and my hat, an old baseball-type hat. Outside it is still cool and damp. The ground is wet, the sun is not hitting much of the yard yet. I open the door to the chicken coop and walk in, stooped over. There is not much room. There are the nesting boxes and the feeder and the water and the perch. I have to get through to the little door and open for them. They always jostle and try to get away from me, although there is nowhere to go. I would think they would like me, I bring them food--and freedom. I have closed the door behind me so they won't escape that way. Because it is open on two sides, only covered by chicken wire, I don't feel claustrophobic. I am happy to get the little door open and they find it and make their way into the run. I back out and close the big door again. They seem fine--no obvious problems that I can detect in my quick survey. I walk around to the other coop, waving my hands in front of me to keep any spiderwebs from hitting me in the face. The three big black hens are walking back and forth in the long coop, waiting for me to open their door. When I do, they rush out into the run and both groups meet and jockey--who will go where? There is some squawking and jumping, but no feathers fly today. I see a dirty egg on the floor of the big coop. Hmm. I wonder why it was not laid in the nest box. It is probably one of the black hens. Perhaps she was intimidated by Gladys.

They run up to me when I find them. 

I go into the garden to check things out. There is a little cluster of white eggs on the leaf of one of the unproducing broccoli plants. I think about crushing it, but something makes me think it might be something good. There is a little yellow pepper on one of those plants. The asparagus is growing tall since we have stopped cutting it. Grow strong for next year! I pull a weed here and there. I admire the green tomatoes and pick some suckers off the plants. The beets and onions look good. The lettuce is bolting. I cut two heads and put them in the basket. There are some cucumbers and zucchini that can grow a little bigger, I gleefully anticipate. The beans--oh, no, there are more green beans to pick. I take myself to task. It's good to have beans to pick, we like fresh home-grown organic green beans. They hide behind the leaves, they disguise themselves as stalks. There are still new flowers and baby beans coming along. The chickens have reached into the garden from the run and destroyed several of the cucumber plants. I guess I knew that would happen, but I somehow hoped it wouldn't, ever the optimist. Fortunately, we planted a lot and some are still doing okay. They have killed a couple pumpkins, too, but there are a couple more crawling around under the peach tree. Two peanuts are up-there should be many more, but we will see.

Ray is ready and we head out for our walk while it's still cool and damp. Cameron runs around us, disappearing and coming back. We don't see any deer this morning, although we often do.

After a good walk (20 minutes?), Ray goes in to get ready for work and I go back to picking beans. In the other garden, the yellow beans are going crazy. I love yellow beans, ever since I was a child. I know they taste the same, but their color makes me smile. They are easier to find and pick than the green ones, that's one thing. These are very prolific and I leave plenty to get a little bigger. I may have 2 pounds of beans today. I start on the blueberries. They are amazing! Beautiful, big blueberries. I have six bushes, two each of three kinds. One is the earliest, and maybe most prolific. I probably have a note somewhere about what variety it is. I taste a few, but I am greedy and want to gather as many as I can. They are everywhere. I try to be systematic, going up and down the bush in some order, but then I see one I had missed and have to go back and check it. I am very careful, picking only the ripest, the ones that come off easily with a gentle tug. In every clump, there are many light green small hard berries and one or more starting to get red and purple and blue. The darkest are the best, but I don't just judge by color. It's more about the feel. The ripe ones come off easily and are very soft--and they have the sweetest, best flavor. Sometimes some fall through the bush and I pick them up off the ground. I hate to lose a single one.

I am so grateful to be able to pick in the shade, just for an hour or so, enjoying it. I think of the people who must pick for a living, all day in the hot sun. It would not be fun. I might not even want to eat any after that.

Ray is long gone and I am still picking. I haven't even looked at the three bushes furthest from the house today. They are in the sun now. Perhaps I will get to them this evening.

I say goodbye to the chickens and go inside with my bounty. Cameron is already inside, a sure sign of a hot day. I dump it all into the sink and turn the water on. Another blessing--water to waste, as much as I want. Two scrawny heads of bolted lettuce, an oregano stem I grabbed, and so many beans and berries. I even picked a few blackberries, but they are definitely getting away from me.

I have a conversation with myself as Gollum.
"You could invite some people to come and pick if they want. You have plenty."
"No, no, they're mine! I need them all."
"You have two quarts in the freezer and a bowl on the counter. You can have berries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and still there will be more to pick--they will fall on the ground and rot!"

I could make jelly. I could take the fence away and let the deer and other critters come in.
Although, probably Cameron would not allow them to do that. Good idea, I will tell people they can come and pick if they want to.

I cooked some lentils and potatoes for tonight's dinner. I wanted to stop and rest, but I wanted the cooking to be done before it got any hotter. The windows and shades were closed, but the air was not running yet. I wanted to take my bath before it was too hot, so I could air out the bathroom and close it up.

I washed each bean lovingly. I don't know how anyone could clean them without using their hands on every individual bean, removing dead flowers and bits of spiderweb. I rinsed the blueberries and blackberries and looked them over too. My back did not like standing at the sink for that time. I thought again of the people who do physical labor for 8 or more hours every day. How do they stand it? Or are they stronger than I am? Are they laughing and singing in the hot sun or the cold factory?

Summer afternoon

Actually, it's still spring, by the calendar.
Rumbling above suggests rain.
We wait hopefully.

The tomato plants are drooping.
To water or not?

Too hot to cook,
we don't want to make it hotter in the house.
Ray starts the grill.
No electricity until 7.
It's cooler inside, even without ac.
We make an exception for some of the overhead fans,
But I like it on the porch.
Gladys, the dowager hen, is strutting around the yard.
The young ones squawk in the run.
Cicadas buzz.
There is a background noise of birds in the woods.
Sweat on my nose.

Georgia green beans

Who would kneel on the muddy ground
to pick the beans still wet from last night’s rain,
saving the slender smooth young ones for tomorrow,
carefully harvesting, with two hands, 
the mature, curvy, swollen ones,
leaning in to look under the leaves so as not to miss any, 
sitting back to make way for the bees working, 
gathering pollen to make honey, 
and, unknowingly, making the bean pods swell?

Who would kneel on the muddy ground,
making my back and legs ache, 
while the sun beats down, making me sweat, 
and the small insects are biting and annoying,
when I could be indoors, enjoying the cool and the comfortable sofa,
watching Oprah, or a hundred other shows?
I could even be watching celebrity chefs cook fresh organic local green beans. 

or I could be outside, 
listening to the chickens fight and the birds call,
sitting with the dog on the porch out of the sun, 
gathering my strength 
to go in and wash and cook the beans, before it gets any hotter.

It is not cool this morning like it was yesterday, which means it will be really warm later.

We had so much fun yesterday. I ran some errands while Ray worked at his office, and spent some time in the library, where it was too cold! Then we met Becky and Kent at Cine, where we watched Belle. Almost every time I see a movie there, I swear I'm going to only watch movies there from now on. They are excellent movies, of course, and the setting is so pleasant.

volunteer squash in a wheelbarrow full of compost

tomatoes

Belle is based on a true story. It is set in the mid-1700s and the costumes and settings are dazzling. Belle's mother was black and her father was an English gentleman. When her mother died, he brought her to his family estate, to be brought up by his uncle, the chief justice. She was raised as befitted her father's blood line, with servants and education and beautiful clothes, along with her cousin, who was white. As a young adult, she faced the complicated conflict of her race with her station and her intelligence. Meanwhile, her uncle must decide on an important case about a ship that drowned its cargo of slaves for the insurance money. An excellent historical film, with excitement and romance, as well as a lesson.

Six of us had a lovely dinner at the National after the movie: hummus, salad, amberjack and coconut tart. The conversation was great, too. Becky's church has a connection with the Czech Republic and a woman named Ivana, who has visited before, was with us, as well as Sue, a friend of theirs who is hosting her.

The only down side was the parking ticket, which we got at 9:30, when we were probably standing outside the theater saying goodbye (Ray was telling jokes). In Athens, a parking ticket is $10, so that's not too devastating.

Day 1 of our energy diet

We are leasing an electric car. We started in December, when I was working. Once a week, I had to drive to Winder for a district meeting. We could arrange to trade the truck with my Dad so Ray could drive the Corolla, or he could just take the truck. There was a great price, under $300 a month, for this car, and a tremendous state tax refund (up to $7500). We love it. It is really quiet, like driving a golf cart, or the Prius before the gas motor kicks in. We show everyone and encourage them to get one. Ours is a Nissan Leaf. It plugs into the garage and charges overnight. Depending on how far we have driven that day, it takes about 5 to 14 hours. The power company has a special rate from 11-7 at night, so we plug it in last thing at night. Our bill last month was under $100, including the car charging--no gas! In order to get the low rate at night, we have a really high rate during the week from 2-7, only in the summer. That is when there is the highest demand for electricity, due to air conditioning.

Yesterday was the first day that we tried to use as little electricity as possible from 2-7. Of course, we did not unplug the refrigerator. We did unplug the TV and its accoutrements and the computers. We turned off the fans and the lights. No cooking. The easiest way to do this would be to leave the house every day before 2 and come back after 7 (and eat supper at a restaurant). That is the plan for today, but it will not be every day. Yesterday was pleasantly cool. The outside temperature did not hit 80 and we probably could have left the windows open. Ray has been carefully opening everything at night and closing them again when it warms up. There are a lot of windows (and shades).

It was very pleasant in the house yesterday at 2. We had eaten lunch and would have happily sat reading for five hours. It seemed like we should use the time, though, so we came upstairs. The main floor of the house is in pretty good shape, clutter-wise. It still needs dusting and cleaning, but there are not as many piles of stuff as there used to be. Ray tried on about 20 dress shirts and most of them we rejected as too big. Some of them are his favorites, but they are going to Goodwill. I threw away some pieces of paper for my contribution. There are still a lot more.

By 6, I was pretty sick of tidying and went to check on the chickens. We have three "batches" of chickens: one of our original chickens, Gladys, a beautiful large Blue Orpington. She is the dowager Empress, sailing along majestically. There are two Black Australorps. They belong to my neighbor, Nancy, and are visiting until she can "raccoon-proof" her coop. They are less than a year old, but full grown and laying. I call them Ursula and Victoria. They are also majestic and beautiful. Then there are the babies: 5 Buff Orpingtons. They are about 3-4 months old, more like teenagers, long-legged and active. I can't tell them all apart and have tried on various names: Abbie and Abbie, Betty or Yolanda, Rodney, and Zephyr. The term "pecking order" comes from the way chickens sort themselves out. Gladys picks on everyone, sometimes pulling out feathers and causing distress. So far, no blood as far as I know. The five little ones are afraid of the Australorps, too, but they seem to be pretty gentle. They're afraid of people, too. Even among the five, there is a hierarchy. Yolanda seems to be the ruler, although I think she's a she. Zephyr is the runt, the smallest and maybe the youngest. He (?) zips around like a hyperactive four-year-old, getting pecked by the others when he gets in their way. It is somewhat mysterious why sometimes they will be actively annoying each other and other times huddled in a bunch like puppies.

On this occasion, I let the babies out to see how they liked the great big world. At first, only two ventured out. I didn't want Nancy's to get out, so I closed the door again. They were very skittish, trying to get in to be with their mates, but also constantly finding things they liked in the grass. Eventually four of them were out (except Rodney) and I had a little trouble getting them back in when it was time for me to go in. They were clustered under a small cedar, a safer place for them than in the open, and it was hard for me to "herd" them. I managed, though. All of our neighbors who have chickens have had trouble with raccoons and other critters. Coyotes and foxes have been spotted in the neighborhood. One got into my coop a few years ago and took a chicken. We have upgraded our coop since then and keep it closed up at night. I think our dog Cameron is a good deterrent, too. He barks in the night sometimes and of course, his scent is all over the yard. But it is nerve-wracking to be responsible for these little lives. I want them to get along, so they can all sleep in the big new "safe" coop. At the moment, the three oldest, laying hens are there, but the five babies are in the old chicken wire coop and I will feel better when they can join the others. Not that there is any guarantee. The morning light brings a certain comfort, when I can count them and see that nothing happened.

Before 7, we were preparing food, rinsing and chopping, so that at 7, we could turn the stove on and start cooking. Naturally, this means a latish dinner hour, but with planning it is doable. Then we can settle down in front of the TV, putting the chickens to bed at dark, plugging in the car at 11, and going to bed ourselves.