The forecast for the second night of the unusual cold just keeps getting worse. This afternoon, I read what no hasty gardener wants to read about the night air: expect frost.
Happy Mother's Day to you, too!
Farmer Lee has co-opted all generations of her family to help cover the strawberries.
Our berries aren't advanced enough to require protection. But our tomatoes!
Let's consider the upside:
Breakfast: a lovely meal, as always.
Outside, the light is brilliant!
Ed and Isis are in high spirits...
We work. I, on my various flower beds, Ed -- digging out stumps and who knows what else out back. For example -- consider this piece of something someone left behind, buried, until today:
This is the time that Ed and I are at our most jovial, most spirited and prone to banter. (And when he is least complaining about my photos of him.)
A solid day of work outside and before you know it -- it's evening. My older girl comes with her husband for dinner. (We had decided to celebrate Mother's Day next week, when my little one and her fiancee will be passing through.)
After the meal, the light quickly fades. I walk the farmette grounds one last time, sending a good vibe (I hope) toward the tomatoes.
Such a beautiful day it was. I'm holding my breath for a gentle night.