No matter who you talk to, the weather is the prime topic in every conversation these days. This interminable rain is wearing on everyone's nerves...when will it end? Every time the sun came out yesterday, I'd think about going out to plant the tomatoes, but as soon as I'd get geared up it would start pouring again. The tomatoes are still on the porch and it's a good thing, because the hail that accompanied the rain would have beaten them flat. Joel called in the afternoon to commiserate...he worries about my goats and I worry about his grapes. He's already lost a number of the barbera vines to unseasonal frost and icy nights. I just went back and reread the entries for last June...rainy days nearly into July, jumping right into one hundred-degrees. The concern is that this, the second year in a row, is becoming our seasonal weather.
The laundry room chicks' growth is commensurate with their intake. They're wolfing down nearly two gallons of feed a day, banging on their empty dish like rioting prisoners. Their "output" is equal to input, and I am oh-so-ready for them to move outside. It's not good for so many to be confined in such a small space, but how can I throw them out into cold and rain? I'm certainly not going to turn them loose in the house, crowded though they be! As I told Joel, it seems the soon-to-be hens and I will go into our sunset years together.
Even were the sun to shine today it would be too wet to mow, but I might get the tomatoes in the ground. One can hope.