The weather created a forced day off yesterday. It never rained hard but drizzled off and on all day, leaving the yards too wet to mow. Walking down to the goats, I could see the west field sprouting weeds even as I watched. I do believe it's a conspiracy.
As it was Memorial Day (by the calendar) and too wet to work outside, I immersed myself in war documentaries, learning much and feeling more. I mentioned the Lt. Dan Band yesterday; I failed (because I didn't know then) to credit Kimo Williams, a Vietnam veteran, as the band's co-founder with Gary Sinise. While most of the men in my family served in the armed forces, dating back to a great-great grandfather in the Civil War (I've got his discharge papers) and my father in World War I (optimistically and erroneously called the War To End All Wars), we've suffered no casualties. I've found it is possible to abhor war and still have tremendous pride in those who serve our country.
The tomato plants have already set fruit, tiny green globes filled with promise. This goofy weather has been good for the strawberry plants; they're bigger and healthier than in years past and I pop a few sweet berries in my mouth as I water (on the dry days, whenever they are). I thought it was a trick of sunlight on the leaves, but yesterday realized the plum tree in the front orchard is loaded with fruit. Once I picked forty pounds of plums from that tree, but it's not put forth much in recent years and what there was was snatched up by birds and deer. I know the almond tree in the back orchard has its heaviest crop ever. Nature is an advocate of affirmative action, not discriminating between good and bad or that which I want and don't want. If I wish her bounty, I'll also get her weeds. I'll take it.
The drizzle of the early morning has let up and the sun is trying to break through. I've had enough of sitting on the couch. I may not win this war on weeds, but at least I'm still fighting.