Saturday, March 24, 2012


Going shopping alone (for nongrocery stuff) has become a distressing experience. If I don’t buy what I intended to buy, I feel that I wasted time. If I make a purchase, I do it with the awareness that if Ed was there, he’d talk me out of it and I’d be that much richer and closer to retirement.

Women encourage each other to buy. You deserve it! – typical words that accompany a small shove toward the register. Ed is on the opposite extreme. He pulls me away, quickly, firmly.

These days, I rarely go to stores. But today was the exception. Pansies, seeds, REI stuff, bookstore stuff, stuff

As I left Barnes & Noble bookstore, I thought how perhaps I’m too old to buy books anymore. I have many that I haven’t read yet and we do make use of the library. A lot. I do not completely endorse Ed’s philosophy that it’s only sad if you die before you turn sixty, but I do feel that purchasing plans of a post-58 year old have to be of a different kind than those of someone approaching 30. My parents both have great difficulty dismantling their various accumulations. Not me. By the time I’m their age (should I live past 60), I may well be living out of a single cardboard box. I’d probably be fine with that.

In the end, I did purchase an REI pack with wheels. It’s a nod toward my youthful ambition of carrying anything I take on a trip on my back and acknowledging that sometimes it’s just that much easier to wheel things. But I’ll return it tomorrow. At home, Ed gently but emphatically convinced me that I do not need it. His steadfast commitment to keep less "stuff" at the farmette is very soothing after a stressful day of store hopping.

Okay, let me turn our attention toward the farmette garden. Much time can be wasted by merely pulling weeds. You walk from point A to point B and you stop a hundred times to pull out a dandelion or a creeping Charlie or a blade of quack grass. The patch by the screened porch is a constant target for us. Isis gets involved as well. He walks daintily between flower clumps. Ed and I are lucky if we trample down fewer than two each time.


We’re starting a new veggie garden and the project combines my impulsiveness with Ed’s devotion to developing a good technique. Ed has a huge roll of wire fencing stored in the barn and we are thinking it may work well as a pea climber.


Ed, is this really for growing peas and beans? I’m skeptical. The stuff is heavy and hard to keep upright.
Well, they say that it's supremely well suited for containing donkeys. Not sure why I have it. It’s looking too funky, isn’t it?
That’s a hint that the end result is likely to look like something your great aunt Hilda may have tried to hoist up after having one too many beers. There isn't a chance that is Ed going to let a funky fence like that stand.
We could try to straighten it.
In the alternative, we could take it down and put up some chicken mesh. Tomorrow.

We’re done for today. We have a vision, we have seeds. A few pots have pansies in them.

DSC00889 - Version 2

And really, at this point, everything looks ridiculously lovely just because we have around us buds and flowers that belong to May. In March. Sure, it is a bit cool today. Fifties. And still, it's a postcard type of day. Even the sheepshed looks dreamy nice. Imagine that.