From 4 in the morning until 5 in the afternoon, Ed worked to restore his computer (which had shown him the blue screen of death late last night) to working order. There were sighs, groans and grunts as he searched for ways to bring back files he believed he had stored somewhere in the cloud. Occasionally he would come up for air -- for example at breakfast time...
But mostly his attention was elsewhere. With his usual patience and calm, he persevered and eventually a tiny fraction of what was lost came back to life again. The rest? Kiss it good bye.
Since he was focused on his laptop (using my computer to google solutions), I directed my attention elsewhere. To the garden, of course. But it was drizzling all morning long, so that it was a wet if not wasted effort. I had just read a newspaper article where a gardener admonished the reluctant end-of-June gardener for slowing down now, since there are important tasks you need to keep doing to keep that perennial bed looking good. I had to smile. What gardener gives up on the whole season this early! I mean, when we have buggy summers, I'm ready to give it a break in mid August. But now? We have such a beautiful month for flowers coming to us! Sure, things never quite grow according to your winter plans and visions, but they do grow, and there is always magnificence out there in this first month of true summer.
The author of the piece really emphasized the importance of deadheading and of weeding. At first I felt smug: I deadhead like a woman possessed, and I have been weeding the main beds very diligently and very consistently this spring. But note my qualifying word here: "main" beds. I admit it: I've neglected the far corners of the more out-of-sight beds. I got to them this morning, drizzle or no drizzle.
I noticed that the wild blackberries that grow along the driveway are ripening right about now.
I think blackberries have a rather bland taste, but these juicy babies do have a sweet punch to them. The cheepers love them!
Speaking of the cheepers, here's young Cherry on the approach to one of our ferals. Who is going to scare who in the end?
You guessed it: the cat went flying as she got too near for his comfort.
All the kids and their mom came to the farmette for a visit and lunch and I immediately directed them to the blackberries...
... and they had my same lukewarm reaction. I do think that blackberries pair well with, say, peaches in a cobbler. But for snacking, we'll pick our local berries and cherries and peaches anytime.
The kids -- all three of them! -- were adamant that this should be an indoor day. Can't blame them. Rain is rain.
(sleepy?)
(nope)
(how many can sit on a loveseat?)
(pretend play: I am a mermaid and he is the captain!)
One quick whiff of an emerging daisy...
... and they're off. And I do some spot cleaning and then Ed comes out of his bubble and proclaims that only a tiny fraction of files are coming back and we should go for a walk.
And so we go. To our county park.
(on the way: like a Seurat painting!)
There is a drizzle on and off, but not enough to steer us away.
(three turtles and a bird...)
(What, you cant see the bird? Okay, I'll move in a little. It's probably a blue heron.)
It's a walk worth taking: we cut across two beautiful prairies. Stunning, really.
(can anyone tell me what this is? I cannot identify it!)
Maybe this is as close as we'll get to a large field of flowers...
Maybe our half measures at the farmette will never amount to much: we'll keep chopping down thistle and it will keep coming back. Interspersed with wild parsnip and excessive dogwood and goldenrod.
That would be just fine. We're lucky to live so close to so many beautiful landscapes. Our new forest will always be an experiment. A work in progress. To adjust and improve again and again.
