We're getting a lot of rain today. The kind that leaves behind big puddles in the driveway. Oh, I suppose I'm glad. Everything is getting a good soak. The asparagus will be delighted, the newly planted day lilies will get a boost as well. Still, nobody -- not the cats, not the cheepers, not me nor Ed -- likes being outside in pouring rain. The brief walk to the barn in the morning leaves me soaked. Sneaking food for the two kitties, Cutie and Calico is terribly unpleasant, especially since I then have to stay outside to keep the chickens and teenage cats away from the kittie feeding station under Ed's car.
And yet, despite the fat rain drops and the cool air, I do push myself out the door for gardening reasons. I need to do my annual feeding of the plants in the front bed. They get terribly starved for nutrients after a winter dumping of salty road stuff. The time to sprinkle granules is during a rain so that the cheepers wont come after me pecking at the interesting stuff that they firmly believe must be food for them. So, sprinkle and kick some dirt over them. Up and down the bed. I am beyond wet at the end of it all.
But I do pause nonetheless to admire the crab apple. I mean, this is it! The week of glory for her! You can't let a rain shower dampen the show that she gives ever so briefly, on this one week out of the whole year!
Breakfast in the cozy kitchen. After I've already taken the time to clean the whole farmhouse. Ed is sleeping off yesterday's laborious car repair job.
Ed! Do come down please! I want my coffee!
Okay okay okay....
In the afternoon, I should do my taxes. I should also do my mom's taxes. I do none of it. I heat up water for tea and sit very close to the heating vent until it's time to start in on dinner.
(Looking out the kitchen window...)
The young family is here of course, and it is a shame that we should be eating indoors, but there you have it. May brings rain and there is plenty of it on this day.
Oh, and did you know it's Mother's Day once again? It is!
So, dinner and play, all indoors, listening to the patter of big fat drops on our farmhouse roof. It's a very pleasant sound.
What do we eat? Well, there are 4, maybe 5 menus that I basically recycle for Sunday dinners, with some, but not a whole lot of seasonal variation. I always ask if they want something new, but the response is the same: nope! Everyone eats copiously and Snowdrop is always full of compliments and so why on earth rock that ship! Today it's time for the Rick Bayless shrimp tacos (with a green mole). Oh, and I do roast some slices of sunchokes for a predinner munch. They came in the CSA box and I must put them to good use.
(At the table...)
(Dessert. He's the only one at the table who does not care for cherries.)
Late evening. Subdued. We've taken to do a late watch of 60 Minutes, which is a terrible idea as it always has CoVid stories. Valuable ones, but not great for an end of day kind of moment. And so we do add-ons afterwards: a Brit thriller, followed by an American comedy. It is close to midnight by the time the evening winds down.
One of the 60 Minute stories has me thinking about science once again and the women and men who work round the clock now to get ahead of the pandemic. Frontliners and scientists: such stressful times for them! Howl outside, bang pots, flash lights, clap loudly. With love.
And yet, despite the fat rain drops and the cool air, I do push myself out the door for gardening reasons. I need to do my annual feeding of the plants in the front bed. They get terribly starved for nutrients after a winter dumping of salty road stuff. The time to sprinkle granules is during a rain so that the cheepers wont come after me pecking at the interesting stuff that they firmly believe must be food for them. So, sprinkle and kick some dirt over them. Up and down the bed. I am beyond wet at the end of it all.
But I do pause nonetheless to admire the crab apple. I mean, this is it! The week of glory for her! You can't let a rain shower dampen the show that she gives ever so briefly, on this one week out of the whole year!
Breakfast in the cozy kitchen. After I've already taken the time to clean the whole farmhouse. Ed is sleeping off yesterday's laborious car repair job.
Ed! Do come down please! I want my coffee!
Okay okay okay....
In the afternoon, I should do my taxes. I should also do my mom's taxes. I do none of it. I heat up water for tea and sit very close to the heating vent until it's time to start in on dinner.
(Looking out the kitchen window...)
The young family is here of course, and it is a shame that we should be eating indoors, but there you have it. May brings rain and there is plenty of it on this day.
Oh, and did you know it's Mother's Day once again? It is!
So, dinner and play, all indoors, listening to the patter of big fat drops on our farmhouse roof. It's a very pleasant sound.
What do we eat? Well, there are 4, maybe 5 menus that I basically recycle for Sunday dinners, with some, but not a whole lot of seasonal variation. I always ask if they want something new, but the response is the same: nope! Everyone eats copiously and Snowdrop is always full of compliments and so why on earth rock that ship! Today it's time for the Rick Bayless shrimp tacos (with a green mole). Oh, and I do roast some slices of sunchokes for a predinner munch. They came in the CSA box and I must put them to good use.
(At the table...)
(Dessert. He's the only one at the table who does not care for cherries.)
Late evening. Subdued. We've taken to do a late watch of 60 Minutes, which is a terrible idea as it always has CoVid stories. Valuable ones, but not great for an end of day kind of moment. And so we do add-ons afterwards: a Brit thriller, followed by an American comedy. It is close to midnight by the time the evening winds down.
One of the 60 Minute stories has me thinking about science once again and the women and men who work round the clock now to get ahead of the pandemic. Frontliners and scientists: such stressful times for them! Howl outside, bang pots, flash lights, clap loudly. With love.
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