It rained at night -- oh, did it rain! The kind of rain that makes you hope that there are no cracks in the roof and that you remembered to bring in every tool, bike and glove from the court yard (there aren't and we did).
We needed the rain and we're better for it now and by morning, though the clouds still hover and chances of storms linger, it nonetheless feels fresh outside and the earth has shaken off its dusty pallor. No watering of pots today, no needed! Time in your pocket right there.
As I walk out to open the coop, I wonder how the hens regard the rain. Ed had strengthened the roof on the hut so that there aren't leaks (there were big one last year), but you have to wonder if the pounding of a storm makes them uneasy.
They seem none the worse this morning -- all eager to be out as they wait for that morning treat of a handful of grain. We splurged and paid 50 cents more for the organic bag and if ever there was a product that appealed to everyone's fancy -- this one is it! Even the chipmunks can't stay away as I scatter the grains. Boldly, they come out and join the pack of hens.
The fields around us are wet -- everything is wet, dripping wet, but the air is warm still and I expect by mid morning, we'll be dry again.
Breakfast... Lovely, warm, summer-like breakfast.
And then we motivate ourselves (it takes some doing!) to go out to the veggie patch to weed the grape vines and tie the branches to the wires. But fifteen minutes into the project, we give up. The sun is out again -- that hot summer sun that tells us we need another storm to make a dent in the heat we've been having. We weed, yes, we do that much, but then we retreat to the farmhouse. It's Labor Day, no? A day of less work and more contemplation about the value of work and the balance one must strive to reach between the demand of work and the lust for nonwork.
In the afternoon, I spend a brief while with Snowdrop. Her hair tussled, her face inquiring -- she is, to me, a bag of wonders!
Is she really still just a baby?
The three of us (mom, Snowdrop, me) take a walk again and the little one tries to hold in her grin, but today, she she just can't help herself!
The girl is in such a good mood!
(on a self-timer)
(proudly standing while I hover; also on a self-timer)
And then, in the evening, the young family comes to the farmhouse for Labor Day supper, out on the porch of course. Every now and then, a wisp of sun pokes through...
...but even in the cloudy moments, it is a beautiful evening! I cook inside, but now that there is a door! and there are steps! -- the dinner itself is easy to bring out at the last minute.
How beautiful it is to sit back in the protected shelter and linger over a last bit of food, throwing a glance at the little one who has her own play space right next to us.
My daughter comments that the goldenrod is just beautiful...
It is, but in fact, everything about the evening is beautiful!
Every last bit of it.
I know summer doesn't end for another couple of weeks, but it ends for me now, with this last beautiful hurrah, on the porch, tonight. After this weekend, we move into Fall.
We needed the rain and we're better for it now and by morning, though the clouds still hover and chances of storms linger, it nonetheless feels fresh outside and the earth has shaken off its dusty pallor. No watering of pots today, no needed! Time in your pocket right there.
As I walk out to open the coop, I wonder how the hens regard the rain. Ed had strengthened the roof on the hut so that there aren't leaks (there were big one last year), but you have to wonder if the pounding of a storm makes them uneasy.
They seem none the worse this morning -- all eager to be out as they wait for that morning treat of a handful of grain. We splurged and paid 50 cents more for the organic bag and if ever there was a product that appealed to everyone's fancy -- this one is it! Even the chipmunks can't stay away as I scatter the grains. Boldly, they come out and join the pack of hens.
The fields around us are wet -- everything is wet, dripping wet, but the air is warm still and I expect by mid morning, we'll be dry again.
Breakfast... Lovely, warm, summer-like breakfast.
And then we motivate ourselves (it takes some doing!) to go out to the veggie patch to weed the grape vines and tie the branches to the wires. But fifteen minutes into the project, we give up. The sun is out again -- that hot summer sun that tells us we need another storm to make a dent in the heat we've been having. We weed, yes, we do that much, but then we retreat to the farmhouse. It's Labor Day, no? A day of less work and more contemplation about the value of work and the balance one must strive to reach between the demand of work and the lust for nonwork.
In the afternoon, I spend a brief while with Snowdrop. Her hair tussled, her face inquiring -- she is, to me, a bag of wonders!
Is she really still just a baby?
The three of us (mom, Snowdrop, me) take a walk again and the little one tries to hold in her grin, but today, she she just can't help herself!
The girl is in such a good mood!
(on a self-timer)
(proudly standing while I hover; also on a self-timer)
And then, in the evening, the young family comes to the farmhouse for Labor Day supper, out on the porch of course. Every now and then, a wisp of sun pokes through...
...but even in the cloudy moments, it is a beautiful evening! I cook inside, but now that there is a door! and there are steps! -- the dinner itself is easy to bring out at the last minute.
How beautiful it is to sit back in the protected shelter and linger over a last bit of food, throwing a glance at the little one who has her own play space right next to us.
My daughter comments that the goldenrod is just beautiful...
It is, but in fact, everything about the evening is beautiful!
Every last bit of it.
I know summer doesn't end for another couple of weeks, but it ends for me now, with this last beautiful hurrah, on the porch, tonight. After this weekend, we move into Fall.
Everything about this is beautiful. What a wonderful disguise the chipmunk has. It took greatly enlarging my screen to be sure that was he I thought I was seeing.
ReplyDeleteSnowdrop's no baby any more! Her face says she really is into things as her own person now, not just smiling, etc in reaction.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Lee... the chipmunk is well camouflaged indeed! If you have only one, you're in luck... we've had a banner year for chipmunks here, maybe 8 or even 10 in our 1/2 acre alone. They're definitely not fussy eaters!!