Well, I almost put off writing a full post until tomorrow. Time ran away from me and suddenly it became too late for anything but sleep.
Then I remembered that the day was actually not too complicated and if I only put up the one, two, okay, maybe three photos, I could call it a day.
Photo number one is of flowers. The next ones to bloom! Sometime soon, I'll point you to the spot where I planted these guys. For now, revel in the color that they bring.
The next picture -- well, another bloom. Of an old iris that I divided and replanted this spring.
So -- only flowers? No, there's one more photo and this one is of me, late late late in the evening, as I make my way across the farmette land, giving the thick grass a good sheer.
Because after weeks of deliberation, Ed came home tonight with a mower that is only about a dozen years old (a mere infant, compared to the John Deere he had been using up to now). Finally, a machine that you don't have to hold your breath, hoping it will move forward.
I tried it out and I can say several things in its favor: it runs beautifully, it cuts the tallest, densest grasses and it does a fantastic spin around at the tug of a lever or two. There is, however, just one thing on the negative side: it was a swirling bumpy ride. The kind you spend good money on in an amusement park. The kind I always avoid because I know that even regular old swings make my stomach turn.
It took me over an hour to mow the farmette grasses and when the job was done, I stumbled back to the farmhouse and thanked Ed for being such a good guy about mowing all these years. He may not do it often (maybe once a month?), but he does it. I promised to help in the future. After all, if I could get used to riding in a car without getting car sick, surely I can get used to spinning around on that thing, no?