Well, that's it for hiking for us. For me. At least -- hiking in our local county park up the road. This year. Especially when I have my phone in my pocket and issues on my mind. Skip the trails through the prairie and into the woods. I'll get my exercise walking up and down the emergent development to the west, north and east of farmette lands, like the good urban sprawl gods intended.
It was an early day. I saw a sliver of sunshine when I woke up and since that sunshine is as precious as toilet paper right now, I decided to zip outside while the going's good.
A pretty day indeed! But it is the beginning of the end of the crab blooms. I see the dusting of white petals on the ground. We'll lose the flowers in a a handful of days, especially if the storms and rains mess with us tonight. So, enjoy this feast today, for tomorrow it may be nearly over.
(In its full glory...)
(Though I like it best, at the edge, where it creates a tunnel of white flowers over the path to the barn...)
(The lilac still has a few more good days ahead of her. Clipping the spent buds last year helped. There is a dense canopy of purple this year!)
Breakfast is on the porch. However messy the day gets, it at least stays pleasantly warm.
Then things get tricky. Ed wants to make progress on the tomatoes. He's still discouraged (the soil did not improve overnight and some audacious animal has actually decapitated at least three planted tomatoes), but we have these cups of healthy seedlings and they need a more permanent solution. Me, I want my walk. But there are issues. First, cat issues. Calico and Cutie had run away from the teenagers and their return today has me scurrying to feed them. Ed distracts the big cats and the cheepers. When she sees the commotion, Calico, in her usual fearful way, runs all the way up the huge willow and now is crying her head off, because she cannot get down.
Ed says she will eventually make it on her own, but we can't stave off the other animals forever and so I slowly coax her down, showing her the best path. She cries the whole time, but does manage to get to the dish before the invasion of the other beasts.
Okay. I drive off to the park. The small parking lot is full. I go to the big one, meant for cars with boat hauls. Good enough. I head out on the trail.
It's lovely of course, though I'm seeing baby mosquitoes. And I'm seeing other hikers. Not a lot by any means, but in the woods the path is narrow and just ahead, there are children who tend not to walk in a straight line. I turn back. Good bye narrow forest path. See you when this is all over.
Add to my social distancing woes, there's the matter of my phone: it's ringing. And so I lose myself for an hour of calls and follow up calls concerning my mom and courses of treatment for back issues. There is a lot to discuss with her, with docs, with the world. It takes time. My hike consists of pacing the parking lot, phone in hand. As I finally get in the car, I see a note stuck to my windshield. It's a whole page of printed reprimands for parking in the area apparently reserved for cars with boats. Even though there are plenty of spaces, someone felt compelled to write out a volume on this subject. And I have to leave it there under the windshield wipers, because I'm thinking the person was probably angry and possibly contaminated with CoVid and perhaps thought that leaving a virus packed note would serve me right.
Oh, and to fully seal the deal for me -- I carry home a tick. Which I do not notice until I feel its crawly little paws on my neck. (At the farmette, the cheepers seem to have sunk the tick population to historic lows. We've not brought in any ticks for years. We love our cheepers!)
Well, no matter. I wont rush to the park again.
Next stop -- pick up my CSA box. The phone is ringing again. And again. I can't do phone and veggie pick up at the same time. I need to glove my hands and not touch stuff. I need to unpack the box. I need to check off lists. I need to concentrate!
So I park once more in a lot, focus on the phone discussions and eventually (well, much much later), I pick up our veggies.
And they are lovely today! Finally! That early spring stuff -- interesting that it was -- is behind me. Every single item in today's box is fun to work with! Lettuce heads. Baby arugula. Green garlic. Baby spinach. Sorrel. Two types of radishes. Asparagus. Chives (okay, I dont need chives... I have my own). And a big bag of sautee mix. I mean -- heaven!
And a bonus six-pack of herbs to plant in the garden. Double heaven.
Ed continues to work with the tomatoes and I want to help him, really I do, but I need a recovery moment. I need lotion on my over-washed hands. I need a pause on the porch. Fine, I give him a quick assist...
... and then to the porch!
Just as the rains come down. And this is no small drizzle. There is thunder, there is a tornado watch, there is drama in the skies!
I don't linger. Time to retreat inside.
Ah well, there is a certain beauty to the lilac after a heavy rain. It becomes like a bulging wisteria, with blooms drooping under the weight of petals and water.
(It's also a reminder that I'll need to do a heavy prune after the flowers are done, or else the blooms will grow to be far above eye level in years to come. Lilacs can get very very tall.)
Dinner is early. Rain makes me hungry! I reheat for last week's green soup, but with it I make up a salad of all the wonderful fresh greens. Ed boils a few cheeper eggs. We're are set.
It truly is the season of greens. Many stunning eye popping shades of greens.
But just to be different, I'll end with orange. There are very few early spring perennials that bloom in shades of orange. This is one of them.
With love.
It was an early day. I saw a sliver of sunshine when I woke up and since that sunshine is as precious as toilet paper right now, I decided to zip outside while the going's good.
A pretty day indeed! But it is the beginning of the end of the crab blooms. I see the dusting of white petals on the ground. We'll lose the flowers in a a handful of days, especially if the storms and rains mess with us tonight. So, enjoy this feast today, for tomorrow it may be nearly over.
(In its full glory...)
(Though I like it best, at the edge, where it creates a tunnel of white flowers over the path to the barn...)
(The lilac still has a few more good days ahead of her. Clipping the spent buds last year helped. There is a dense canopy of purple this year!)
Breakfast is on the porch. However messy the day gets, it at least stays pleasantly warm.
Then things get tricky. Ed wants to make progress on the tomatoes. He's still discouraged (the soil did not improve overnight and some audacious animal has actually decapitated at least three planted tomatoes), but we have these cups of healthy seedlings and they need a more permanent solution. Me, I want my walk. But there are issues. First, cat issues. Calico and Cutie had run away from the teenagers and their return today has me scurrying to feed them. Ed distracts the big cats and the cheepers. When she sees the commotion, Calico, in her usual fearful way, runs all the way up the huge willow and now is crying her head off, because she cannot get down.
Ed says she will eventually make it on her own, but we can't stave off the other animals forever and so I slowly coax her down, showing her the best path. She cries the whole time, but does manage to get to the dish before the invasion of the other beasts.
Okay. I drive off to the park. The small parking lot is full. I go to the big one, meant for cars with boat hauls. Good enough. I head out on the trail.
It's lovely of course, though I'm seeing baby mosquitoes. And I'm seeing other hikers. Not a lot by any means, but in the woods the path is narrow and just ahead, there are children who tend not to walk in a straight line. I turn back. Good bye narrow forest path. See you when this is all over.
Add to my social distancing woes, there's the matter of my phone: it's ringing. And so I lose myself for an hour of calls and follow up calls concerning my mom and courses of treatment for back issues. There is a lot to discuss with her, with docs, with the world. It takes time. My hike consists of pacing the parking lot, phone in hand. As I finally get in the car, I see a note stuck to my windshield. It's a whole page of printed reprimands for parking in the area apparently reserved for cars with boats. Even though there are plenty of spaces, someone felt compelled to write out a volume on this subject. And I have to leave it there under the windshield wipers, because I'm thinking the person was probably angry and possibly contaminated with CoVid and perhaps thought that leaving a virus packed note would serve me right.
Oh, and to fully seal the deal for me -- I carry home a tick. Which I do not notice until I feel its crawly little paws on my neck. (At the farmette, the cheepers seem to have sunk the tick population to historic lows. We've not brought in any ticks for years. We love our cheepers!)
Well, no matter. I wont rush to the park again.
Next stop -- pick up my CSA box. The phone is ringing again. And again. I can't do phone and veggie pick up at the same time. I need to glove my hands and not touch stuff. I need to unpack the box. I need to check off lists. I need to concentrate!
So I park once more in a lot, focus on the phone discussions and eventually (well, much much later), I pick up our veggies.
And they are lovely today! Finally! That early spring stuff -- interesting that it was -- is behind me. Every single item in today's box is fun to work with! Lettuce heads. Baby arugula. Green garlic. Baby spinach. Sorrel. Two types of radishes. Asparagus. Chives (okay, I dont need chives... I have my own). And a big bag of sautee mix. I mean -- heaven!
And a bonus six-pack of herbs to plant in the garden. Double heaven.
Ed continues to work with the tomatoes and I want to help him, really I do, but I need a recovery moment. I need lotion on my over-washed hands. I need a pause on the porch. Fine, I give him a quick assist...
... and then to the porch!
Just as the rains come down. And this is no small drizzle. There is thunder, there is a tornado watch, there is drama in the skies!
I don't linger. Time to retreat inside.
Ah well, there is a certain beauty to the lilac after a heavy rain. It becomes like a bulging wisteria, with blooms drooping under the weight of petals and water.
(It's also a reminder that I'll need to do a heavy prune after the flowers are done, or else the blooms will grow to be far above eye level in years to come. Lilacs can get very very tall.)
Dinner is early. Rain makes me hungry! I reheat for last week's green soup, but with it I make up a salad of all the wonderful fresh greens. Ed boils a few cheeper eggs. We're are set.
It truly is the season of greens. Many stunning eye popping shades of greens.
But just to be different, I'll end with orange. There are very few early spring perennials that bloom in shades of orange. This is one of them.
With love.
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