Saturday - 92nd

Rumor has it that the farmers who lived for the better part of the twentieth century here, at what I affectionately call the farmette, were not good and noble stewards of the land. They were careless. They were sloppy. I gather they threw garbage out the window. The barn caught on fire, the silo smoldered for years. The rubble of that original barn is buried somewhere under my Big Bed of flowers. We find junk when we dig around the farmhouse. Tin cans, bullet shells, metal scraps.

But my oh my, did the family grow good rhubarb! They planted some right by the back door (which we use as the main entrance to the house) and it explodes each year with ruby-green stalks. I've taken out big chunks of it and transplanted them elsewhere around the farmette and they now, too, produce tart stalks in abundance.

In other words, we're swimming in rhubarb.

Ed suggested we harvest most of it and freeze it for winter use. I finally agreed, even though I'm generally opposed to freezing stuff we're not likely to use. This time he convinced me that making rhubarb cake in the winter would be delicious fun. So we picked rhubarb.

That is the lightest of my gardening jobs today. On a day that is so completely, unabashedly beautiful, both cool and sunny, just downright perfect, we're going to work hard at catch up outside. Weeding for me tops the list. And sowing seeds on our now expanded meadow out by the new orchard. (Slowly but surely, we're laying on dirt and sowing flower seeds, which we hope will blend with the grasses already slated to grow there.)

(People aim for neat, short lawns. we aim for this...)






(The rooster, following the big guy...)






On days like this, you just have to love life!






The horseflies have a very brief season and I swear it's nearing an end. Today I only fought with two or three during my work. And no, there aren't the mosquitoes yet. In other words, life for the gardener is pretty good right now.

Breakfast is close to noon. Ed tells me it's his prelunch snack.






And the afternoon? Well, that's an easy one: more outdoor work! Ed attacks my car breaks (despite a replaced brake disc, the old wreck still shimmies as if it were on the dance floor, so yet another disc has to be switched), me -- I attack weeds.

And we survey our veggie patch: the tomatoes are finally picking up after a fertilizer boost. The lettuces are actually doing nicely as well.

One last task: the trimming of our second lilac. I mean, why stop at just one!

We walk back along one of my mowed paths, feeling really good about some of this year's projects. Almost no one sees the heart of the farmette land, but to us, it's a place of great loveliness. Quirky in places, well cared for in other spots -- overall, a sweetly satisfying work in progress.


And now I'm done for the day. It's time to pick up our CSA box. Here are today's treasures, next to my own rhubarb mound:





Lettuces, garlic scapes, the last bunch of asparagus, rainbow chard, kohlrabi, dill, rhubarb (!), pea vines, and a real treat -- the first Wisconsin strawberries!

I finally get to my lunch coffee break. At 5:30. And it matters not at all. The sun sets today in Madison at 8:38. Even though our dinner of leftover frittata and a huge salad (have to use those lettuce heads, pea shoots and kohlrabi!) isn't until after 8, it feels right to be late with it. Evenings in June are beautifully long. One must grab them. In a week, we'll be shifting toward a shortening of days.

Later, much later, we watch the nearly last episode of our British crime drama series. The love interest of the inspector gets killed. I swear I'll never watch a crime drama again.