Yesterday was the direct opposite of the day before. It was raining and windy when I went down to the barn and the girls and I were all cranky. Now my barn shoes have sprung a leak and I squelch around with a soggy sock after tromping through the wet grass. (If it would quit raining every other day I could put off shopping for shoes, something I hate worse than dusting.)
In the afternoon, lo and behold, the sun came out! Patrick came with the alfalfa and stayed to chat, or, in Patrick's case, chatter. He is such a good kid, going above and beyond. He not only puts the bags of grain in the feed room, he empties the chicken feed into the barrels for me. That boy does love to talk.
Bessie Anne, the cats, and I decided it was just too nice to spend the rest of the day inside, so we all went out to weed (my justification for not doing housework). There is a particular plant that, for lack of knowing its real name, I call bracken. It is a lovely shade of green, lacy, with tiny white flowers, and it grows quite tall. After the first year or so of thinking how pretty it was, I learned to pull it out by its roots as soon as possible. When dry, this danged plant throws off bijillions of seeds like tiny daggers. They get in socks, the seams of pants, the lining of shoes, in between the dog's toes, and, since Bessie is my nighttime companion, all over the bed. For some reason, it is particularly virulent this year. We spent an hour or so pulling this weed and barely made a dent. My supervisors and I then wandered out to the garden. In only four days, the lettuce has sprouted! My ambition renewed, I weeded and prepped two more barrels for planting. It's not visions of sugarplums that dance in my head. I'm envisioning tomatoes, beets, green beans, and fresh peas. And squash! I grow squash for the blossoms as much as the vegetable. Dipped in a light beer batter with a smidgen of cayenne and sauteed in butter and oil...my mouth is already watering.
If the sun comes out today and anyone comes looking for me...I'll be in the garden.