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.