When I first saw the video for OK Go's "This Too Shall Pass", I was floored. The complexity of the video was made marvellous by the creativity that went into it (so original!) AND that it was done all in ONE SHOT!!
Apparently, you CAN improve on perfection (although the bit with the piano made me wince a little):
All I can say is Oh. My. Gosh.
(Behind-the-scenes on the second one here.)
Lyrics:
This Too Shall Pass lyrics
Songwriters: Kulash, Damian; Nordwind, Tim;
You know you can't keep letting it get you down
And you can't keep dragging that dead weight around
Is it really all that much to lug around
Better run like hell when you hit the ground
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
Can't stop those kids from dancing but why would you want to
Especially when you are already getting good?
'Cause when your mind don't move then your knees don't bend
But don't go blaming the kids again
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
Let it go, this too shall pass
Let it go, this too shall pass
(Let it go, this too shall pass)
Apparently, you CAN improve on perfection (although the bit with the piano made me wince a little):
All I can say is Oh. My. Gosh.
(Behind-the-scenes on the second one here.)
Lyrics:
This Too Shall Pass lyrics
Songwriters: Kulash, Damian; Nordwind, Tim;
You know you can't keep letting it get you down
And you can't keep dragging that dead weight around
Is it really all that much to lug around
Better run like hell when you hit the ground
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
Can't stop those kids from dancing but why would you want to
Especially when you are already getting good?
'Cause when your mind don't move then your knees don't bend
But don't go blaming the kids again
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
When the morning comes
Let it go, this too shall pass
Let it go, this too shall pass
(Let it go, this too shall pass)
"I guess I just prefer to see the dark side of things. The glass is always half empty. And cracked. And I just cut my lip on it. And chipped a tooth."
- Janeane Garofalo
- Janeane Garofalo
"The tongue is ever turning to the aching tooth." - Benjamin Franklin
Last night, I chipped a tooth. And for reasons that I am trying to fathom, it has totally sent me for an emotional loop.
I have personally known three people in the last year who have chipped their teeth. These people were all a generation ahead of me, ergo, their teeth had seen much more wear and tear than mine. I could tell it affected them, and I empathized with the annoyance that having a sharp something in your mouth must be. But I figured it was only natural that eventually, this happens to teeth (especially those continually exposed to our refined Western diet, even in limited quantities). And I knew their inconvenience would only last until they could get to a dentist.
But now that it is my mouth, and my tooth, why can't I be as rational? Why am I so upset about it?
I have never had any problems with my teeth before. Blessed with good genetics and good nutrition early in life, I have never had a cavity, and the worst problem I occasionally endure is teething because my wisdom teeth have not fully emerged. (I was teething wisdom teeth while Jabin was teething his one-year molars--believe me, though the pain made me grumpy, I had loads of empathy for the little guy. I think he handled it better than I did.) They are also slightly out of alignment with the rest of my teeth, so I try to be extra-careful that food does not get caught in them. However, I recognize that someday I may have to have them removed.
But this is different, maybe because it was so unexpected. I think that, deep down, I believe it shouldn't have chipped. That's part of it. I wasn't eating anything hard, only pizza. Homemade, "healthful pizza", at that. For crying out loud, I ground the flour myself! Which means that my tooth (and probably more than one) must have some structural integrity issues. Which means I need to change.
I guess I had believed that the healthier-than-the-average-bear diet that I try to follow would help me keep my teeth to a ripe old age, undamaged. The link between teeth and internal health (especially your heart) is fairly well-known, and I wanted to believe that I was doing all I could to keep myself healthy, without having to go to extremes.
But now, I'm not so sure. And am I doing all I can for my children? I don't know. Jabin's lower jaw, which I once thought had plenty of room to fill up, is starting to look a little crowded...
One chipped tooth has filled me with self-doubt. Ridiculous, I know. But just like my tongue cannot stop worrying at the broken remains (and, in all honesty, most of the tooth remains--it was a tiny piece that came off, only a flake), my mind cannot stop worrying that maybe I need to make more dramatic changes to my lifestyle and diet. And I don't want to. I have done "dramatic" for short periods, and it is a serious pain in the arse, for reasons mostly having to do with the convenience of both myself and friends that may ever want to entertain our family. Mostly me, though. Can't what I do now just be enough? the petulant three-year-old in the back of my mind whines.
The final straw is that, after a summer that has been especially rough on our emergency fund, I know that there is nothing I will be able to do to change it right away. There is no trip to the dentist's chair in my immediate future for a "Band-aid fix." Only twenty-four hours later, and the tip of my tongue is already raw. How long until it is worn flat by use? And is the rest of the tooth about to crumble?
I know I'm making too big a deal out of it. And I'm really trying to get a grip. But this is my blog--it's where I get to vent (within limits, I realize). And I guess I was hoping that typing this out would help me "get over it."
One of those others who chipped their tooth recently claimed that this has been "the summer of her discontent." I'm beginning to feel the same. Not really--for the most part, I am not discontent. And when I think of Job, that amazing man who lived so many thousands of years ago, and lost so much, including his livelihood and children within only a few days, and still blessed the name of the Lord, I think that I must still have a long way to grow. When he also lost his health in a severe and painful way (body covered by painful boils), he finally started to question God.
It would definitely take a lot more than a major move, a few gardening setbacks, and a chipped tooth to make me question the God who is my Rock--but apparently, that is enough to make me question myself.
All I can say is, whatever it is I am supposed to be learning this summer? I wish I would just get it over with!
Last night, I cut the lino for our addition. Jason helped with wrestling it into place.
This morning, I glued it down.
You can now start referring to me as "Your Majesty"...
... 'cause I feel like the Queen of Home Renovations! :-D
(Photos coming, soon, promise!)
This morning, I glued it down.
You can now start referring to me as "Your Majesty"...
... 'cause I feel like the Queen of Home Renovations! :-D
(Photos coming, soon, promise!)
As Noah was finishing up his English assignment this morning, he blurted out (in typical Noah fashion), "When I am an adult, I will have a baby."
My first thought was, Yay! Grandkids for me! But I just said, "Okay. Are you excited about having babies with your wife?" I wanted to make sure that he was aware that this would not be a solo effort.
"Yeah, girl humans, they make the babies." (Um, having trouble thinking of the word "women", I guess.)
"Yes, God designed women to carry the babies," I clarified.
"In their tummies?"
"No, not really," I said. I indicated my abdomen. "We sometimes say that women have the baby in their tummies, but they are really in a special organ God gave women called a uterus. It just looks like their tummy because it is in the same area."
"Oooh," he said, wide-eyed.
"If it was really their tummy, then all the food would have to pass by the baby when the mommy ate, and that wouldn't work very well."
"Yeah, the mommy wouldn't be able to eat!"
"And since she has to eat enough good food for herself and her baby, that is why the baby is in a separate, special place."
"When I have a baby, it will be Sonic!" (e.g. "the Hedgehog".) My spontaneous outburst of laughter must have made him realize that this was somewhat out of the realm of possibility, because he immediately countered with, "No, no! When I have a baby..." and trailed off into thought for a moment.
"Well, your only real options that you know in advance are 'boy' or 'girl'," I prompted, waiting in delighted anticipation to see where his train of thought would go next. He did not disappoint. (Why is my seven-year-old naming his future children already?!)
"When I have a girl, I'm going to call her..."--pause to think some more--"'Eve'!"
"That's a good name," I smiled.
"And a boy will be 'Jonah'!" He really seemed to be getting into this.
"Oh... 'Eve and Jonah' sounds good," I replied.
"And a girl will be 'Beauty'!" he said. That one sounded like it was leaning towards the hippie, but it was about to get better!
"You're going to have two girls and a boy, then?" I asked, but he was now on too much of a roll to be distracted with mere questions.
"And a boy will be... 'Huggy'!"
Well, (ahem) let's hope his wife helps him with the name for that last one!
My first thought was, Yay! Grandkids for me! But I just said, "Okay. Are you excited about having babies with your wife?" I wanted to make sure that he was aware that this would not be a solo effort.
"Yeah, girl humans, they make the babies." (Um, having trouble thinking of the word "women", I guess.)
"Yes, God designed women to carry the babies," I clarified.
"In their tummies?"
"No, not really," I said. I indicated my abdomen. "We sometimes say that women have the baby in their tummies, but they are really in a special organ God gave women called a uterus. It just looks like their tummy because it is in the same area."
"Oooh," he said, wide-eyed.
"If it was really their tummy, then all the food would have to pass by the baby when the mommy ate, and that wouldn't work very well."
"Yeah, the mommy wouldn't be able to eat!"
"And since she has to eat enough good food for herself and her baby, that is why the baby is in a separate, special place."
"When I have a baby, it will be Sonic!" (e.g. "the Hedgehog".) My spontaneous outburst of laughter must have made him realize that this was somewhat out of the realm of possibility, because he immediately countered with, "No, no! When I have a baby..." and trailed off into thought for a moment.
"Well, your only real options that you know in advance are 'boy' or 'girl'," I prompted, waiting in delighted anticipation to see where his train of thought would go next. He did not disappoint. (Why is my seven-year-old naming his future children already?!)
"When I have a girl, I'm going to call her..."--pause to think some more--"'Eve'!"
"That's a good name," I smiled.
"And a boy will be 'Jonah'!" He really seemed to be getting into this.
"Oh... 'Eve and Jonah' sounds good," I replied.
"And a girl will be 'Beauty'!" he said. That one sounded like it was leaning towards the hippie, but it was about to get better!
"You're going to have two girls and a boy, then?" I asked, but he was now on too much of a roll to be distracted with mere questions.
"And a boy will be... 'Huggy'!"
Well, (ahem) let's hope his wife helps him with the name for that last one!
After sitting on my counter for several weeks, it must have decided it had had enough sunshine to rev up the next phase of the life cycle. I had grand plans of planting the sprouts and growing squash through the winter (indoors, of course). Those plans ended in a mass of black, squishy rot, since first of all I thought I would keep it in a plastic bag "until I had the time to deal with it." Apparently, "Time" made that decision for me.
I've had some people hint at me recently that they would like to see something new on this page a little more often.
While my intentions are all towards blogging 3-5 times a week, the reality is that by the end of my day, it has usually dropped right off my priority list. We'll see if I can pick up the pace again in a few more weeks once we have all the "extremely-urgent" items off of our "to-do" list.
But I'm not making any promises...
Despite the frost we had several nights earlier in the week (or maybe because of it), I managed to get all my potatoes and onions in by Wednesday. There is still a good chunk of garden to come in, but between school planning and the sun going down so darn early (what's with this "dark at 8:30" thing?! :-D), I am running behind on a few things. Our addition only has one coat of paint on it, still... and in a way I was glad that I was stalled at that point when we got to "discover" some leaks yesterday, thanks to a day of steady, slow rain. Now we get to figure out where the sources of those are before finishing the inside.
Jason almost got our fuel tank for the diesel furnace in place before dark on Thursday... but not quite. Yesterday, the rain made working outside unfavourable, so I expect we may now not have heat until Monday. It won't be a minute too early, either! Some mornings this week, I have really had to "psych myself up" to extend my bare toes from beneath warm, fluffy blankets to frigid morning air!
Both Jabin and Noah have said some things this week that tickled me to the funny bone. Of course, I don't remember what they are now...
Okay, I remember one. On Monday, Jabin was helping me pick rosehips to make jelly.
"Could we have rosehip jelly for a snack sometime, Mom?" he asked, clambering over some rocks to reach some berries that were higher on the bush.
"Well, yes, on our toast and butter," I replied, gingerly reaching my hand through a gap in some thorny branches toward a succulent-looking red hip.
"Not by itself?"
After several turns around this conversation, it occurred to me what he was talking about.
"I'm not making Jell-O, I'm making jelly," I clarified.
"What's jelly?" he asked.
"It's like jam, only without the pieces of fruit," I replied. "'Jell-O' is that jiggly stuff that is really bright, weird colours."
"Oh." After a few more moments, "It would be cool if my name were 'Jell-O'," he said.
Giggling, I asked, "Why's that?"
"Because I love Jello so much," he said, then went on with his picking.
Oh. "I guess we didn't think of that when you were born," I replied. Gotta love kid logic.
Yesterday, Jabin used the word "struggling" a handful of times, in context. It caught me by surprise at first. How many near-six-year-olds use words like "struggling?"
"Mommy, I am struggling with this one. My '2' doesn't look right," he calmly said to me, pointing at the question in his math book so I could help him out. He used the word several more times in the next twenty minutes.
Later, at supper, when I said to Jason, "Jabin's 'Word-of-the-Day' was 'struggling,'" Jabin added, "Yeah, I was struggling with math."
Hee.
It really struck me last night how grown-up all my boys seem. Only a few short years ago, Jude was bringing our family into the new chapter of "school age" by being in grade one, Noah was a mystery we hadn't read very many pages of, and Jabin made you want to squish him into a hundred little pieces of love just by being alive.
Now, Jabin is running around using words like "struggling", "supposedly", and making astute observations every day. The "baby" is gone from his face, leaving behind a little boy with hairy legs (which he gets from his dad!) who thinks he can boss around his big brothers. Jude is only a couple of years from "pre-teen", and Noah is becoming more responsible all the time.
Reading through some of those older posts, it struck me that I used to be much more clever. I guess that's the benefit of posting more often--you think of better things to say. Or better ways to say the things you were going to say anyway.
From the archives, here is a few-paragraph blurb that gave me a giggle. I hope it does for you, too:
From August 10, 2008 (my 31st birthday):
While my intentions are all towards blogging 3-5 times a week, the reality is that by the end of my day, it has usually dropped right off my priority list. We'll see if I can pick up the pace again in a few more weeks once we have all the "extremely-urgent" items off of our "to-do" list.
But I'm not making any promises...
@@@@@
Despite the frost we had several nights earlier in the week (or maybe because of it), I managed to get all my potatoes and onions in by Wednesday. There is still a good chunk of garden to come in, but between school planning and the sun going down so darn early (what's with this "dark at 8:30" thing?! :-D), I am running behind on a few things. Our addition only has one coat of paint on it, still... and in a way I was glad that I was stalled at that point when we got to "discover" some leaks yesterday, thanks to a day of steady, slow rain. Now we get to figure out where the sources of those are before finishing the inside.
Jason almost got our fuel tank for the diesel furnace in place before dark on Thursday... but not quite. Yesterday, the rain made working outside unfavourable, so I expect we may now not have heat until Monday. It won't be a minute too early, either! Some mornings this week, I have really had to "psych myself up" to extend my bare toes from beneath warm, fluffy blankets to frigid morning air!
@@@@@
Both Jabin and Noah have said some things this week that tickled me to the funny bone. Of course, I don't remember what they are now...
Okay, I remember one. On Monday, Jabin was helping me pick rosehips to make jelly.
"Could we have rosehip jelly for a snack sometime, Mom?" he asked, clambering over some rocks to reach some berries that were higher on the bush.
"Well, yes, on our toast and butter," I replied, gingerly reaching my hand through a gap in some thorny branches toward a succulent-looking red hip.
"Not by itself?"
After several turns around this conversation, it occurred to me what he was talking about.
"I'm not making Jell-O, I'm making jelly," I clarified.
"What's jelly?" he asked.
"It's like jam, only without the pieces of fruit," I replied. "'Jell-O' is that jiggly stuff that is really bright, weird colours."
"Oh." After a few more moments, "It would be cool if my name were 'Jell-O'," he said.
Giggling, I asked, "Why's that?"
"Because I love Jello so much," he said, then went on with his picking.
Oh. "I guess we didn't think of that when you were born," I replied. Gotta love kid logic.
Yesterday, Jabin used the word "struggling" a handful of times, in context. It caught me by surprise at first. How many near-six-year-olds use words like "struggling?"
"Mommy, I am struggling with this one. My '2' doesn't look right," he calmly said to me, pointing at the question in his math book so I could help him out. He used the word several more times in the next twenty minutes.
Later, at supper, when I said to Jason, "Jabin's 'Word-of-the-Day' was 'struggling,'" Jabin added, "Yeah, I was struggling with math."
Hee.
It really struck me last night how grown-up all my boys seem. Only a few short years ago, Jude was bringing our family into the new chapter of "school age" by being in grade one, Noah was a mystery we hadn't read very many pages of, and Jabin made you want to squish him into a hundred little pieces of love just by being alive.
Now, Jabin is running around using words like "struggling", "supposedly", and making astute observations every day. The "baby" is gone from his face, leaving behind a little boy with hairy legs (which he gets from his dad!) who thinks he can boss around his big brothers. Jude is only a couple of years from "pre-teen", and Noah is becoming more responsible all the time.
Reading through some of those older posts, it struck me that I used to be much more clever. I guess that's the benefit of posting more often--you think of better things to say. Or better ways to say the things you were going to say anyway.
From the archives, here is a few-paragraph blurb that gave me a giggle. I hope it does for you, too:
From August 10, 2008 (my 31st birthday):
"What is this thing?" Logan asked, looking at me. The "thing" in question was a small but surprisingly heavy shiny metal rod that had been shaped into a triangle, and was suspended by a brightly-coloured nylon cord attached to a very small, rounded, red wooden handle. My brother kept swinging it around by the cord. "Is it an actual musical instrument, or a weapon?"
"Both," I replied. "It's a child-sized triangle. I don't know where the stick is for it." A twinkle popped into my eye. "But musical instruments often double as weapons, you know. That's why you would always see the Mafia walking around with violin cases."
"Uh, Talena, those had guns in them," my Dad said, but I refused to be deceived.
"No, just violins," I replied nonchalantly.
"What, 'If you don't talk, I'm going to play my violin at you?!'" he teased, imitating a maddened Mafia henchman with evil intent about to play something dark and Russian.
"Well, you know, some of them were saxophones," Logan chimed in.
"Really?" I asked.
"Yeah. That's why they had so much sax and violins."
Disclaimer to the members of my family who may feel like correcting me on any part of the above conversation: While some of the exact wording may have been changed, the purpose of the conversation remains the same. This is how I remember it--and conversations around a breakfast table do not always translate well verbatim to the written word. End of disclaimer.
Why do bees and sunflowers seem to go together?
Maybe it's the yellow colour scheme.
I guess they aren't always together.
Like salt and pepper, once in a long while you do actually see one without the other.
My "Anything Goes" strawbale garden has produced a satisfactory crop of sunflowers, with many more on the way as long as we don't get a frost anytime soon. I am not sure what this last one is--I think it was from the "mystery seeds" given to me by my friend Doug F. The closest I can find on the Internet is Little Becka. Have any of you seen this variety before?
Maybe it's the yellow colour scheme.
I guess they aren't always together.
Like salt and pepper, once in a long while you do actually see one without the other.
My "Anything Goes" strawbale garden has produced a satisfactory crop of sunflowers, with many more on the way as long as we don't get a frost anytime soon. I am not sure what this last one is--I think it was from the "mystery seeds" given to me by my friend Doug F. The closest I can find on the Internet is Little Becka. Have any of you seen this variety before?
A few photos taken on our afternoon outside today, around the yard and around the field.
An invitation to play!
Sunshine cools off.
Prince of the castle.
Look at these sweet faces! (You can see the decimated corn and peas behind them.)
This activity was by Jude's request!
Noah inspecting our dugout, which is still pretty wet in the middle.
Jude and Noah were either looking for frogs, or trying to figure out where the dogs had disappeared to in all that tall grass!
Last Saturday, while Jason and our two friends Brian and Darryl spent the entire day risking life and limb getting our addition from There to Here, the kids and I got to go on buggy rides.
Brian's wife, daughter and grandson got to go with us. I know it doesn't really seem fair that we were having fun while the guys were working harder than they usually have to on their days off. However, it helped take all of our minds off of worrying that something might go wrong a little bit.
The lovely lady driving the buggy is Irinel Agapow, and the noble steed is a young Halflinger she is training named Simmel (I think?). The buggy is an antique belonging to my step-dad, and we were invited on the whole adventure by my mom (who was holding the camera, therefore not pictured.)
Since it was really only a one-seater buggy, which we still managed to squeeze two adults and two children onto, the rest of us were entertaining ourselves while we waited for our turns. While he was waiting, Noah found a frog, which he decided needed to go into his pocket. This is he, pointing to the frog's location inside his pants:
Later, Jenn and Laverna took the frog to their place, where they have a little aquarium for him to live in. We get to pick him up the next time we go. (Assuming he is still alive, I guess!)
As far as the men-folk, they made it home safely, racing the setting sun to get the addition off the trailer before dark. On the next two days, Brian graciously came back to help Jason in sucking the addition in next to the trailer and getting it levelled.
So, that means we now have our addition. Last Friday, Mike and his friend Jerry had brought up our deck, stairs, and fuel tank (the trailer is set up to run on diesel heating fuel), which are laying in random places in our yard (still). The addition is not "hooked up" yet, meaning no power, and we are climbing in and out on a stepladder, but AT LEAST IT'S HERE!!
The walls in there were circa-1970s dark faux-wood panel board, never painted, so this week in between the +30C heat wave and getting started schooling my younger two boys, I also managed to prime the porch. That's about as far as I got, though!
I am feeling the pressure of the impending and unknown date that it will get cold and miserable and white outside like an unknown but inevitable execution date. My head is constantly filled with all of things that I have yet to do, and knocking off the in-essentials that I simply won't have time for this year. I didn't get much canning done, since I rarely had time to go to the store to buy fruit, and didn't have much time to can, either! I managed to keep on top of the plentiful crop of peas I had, which is good, since last weekend the neighbour's horses got out and destroyed most of the vines. Fortunately, I will get a few seed peas for next year from what is still remaining. (The horses also ruined all but about 5 stalks of corn and ate quite a few of my sunflowers. It was a tearful moment for me when I discovered that.) Most of my garden is still in the ground, so as soon as it cools back down to fall weather I need to dig that up.
So, here are a few things still on my "before-the-snow-flies" To-Do list:
On Jason's To-Do list:
At the end of August, I had only a few tomatoes on any of my plants--the plants were strong and lush from all the rain, but there had not been enough heat to produce fruit on many of them. I was disappointed, but since this is my first year growing tomatoes, I tried not to take it too personally. However, there are now tomatoes on nearly every plant I have. Even the lone rare strain of Oxheart that I received from my friend Doug F. produced one lonely, large, though misshapen fruit. I hope the seeds are fertile. (It looks like it grew around the clover, or something!)
Brian's wife, daughter and grandson got to go with us. I know it doesn't really seem fair that we were having fun while the guys were working harder than they usually have to on their days off. However, it helped take all of our minds off of worrying that something might go wrong a little bit.
The lovely lady driving the buggy is Irinel Agapow, and the noble steed is a young Halflinger she is training named Simmel (I think?). The buggy is an antique belonging to my step-dad, and we were invited on the whole adventure by my mom (who was holding the camera, therefore not pictured.)
Since it was really only a one-seater buggy, which we still managed to squeeze two adults and two children onto, the rest of us were entertaining ourselves while we waited for our turns. While he was waiting, Noah found a frog, which he decided needed to go into his pocket. This is he, pointing to the frog's location inside his pants:
Later, Jenn and Laverna took the frog to their place, where they have a little aquarium for him to live in. We get to pick him up the next time we go. (Assuming he is still alive, I guess!)
As far as the men-folk, they made it home safely, racing the setting sun to get the addition off the trailer before dark. On the next two days, Brian graciously came back to help Jason in sucking the addition in next to the trailer and getting it levelled.
So, that means we now have our addition. Last Friday, Mike and his friend Jerry had brought up our deck, stairs, and fuel tank (the trailer is set up to run on diesel heating fuel), which are laying in random places in our yard (still). The addition is not "hooked up" yet, meaning no power, and we are climbing in and out on a stepladder, but AT LEAST IT'S HERE!!
The walls in there were circa-1970s dark faux-wood panel board, never painted, so this week in between the +30C heat wave and getting started schooling my younger two boys, I also managed to prime the porch. That's about as far as I got, though!
I am feeling the pressure of the impending and unknown date that it will get cold and miserable and white outside like an unknown but inevitable execution date. My head is constantly filled with all of things that I have yet to do, and knocking off the in-essentials that I simply won't have time for this year. I didn't get much canning done, since I rarely had time to go to the store to buy fruit, and didn't have much time to can, either! I managed to keep on top of the plentiful crop of peas I had, which is good, since last weekend the neighbour's horses got out and destroyed most of the vines. Fortunately, I will get a few seed peas for next year from what is still remaining. (The horses also ruined all but about 5 stalks of corn and ate quite a few of my sunflowers. It was a tearful moment for me when I discovered that.) Most of my garden is still in the ground, so as soon as it cools back down to fall weather I need to dig that up.
So, here are a few things still on my "before-the-snow-flies" To-Do list:
- Finish the permanent chicken run we began in May
- Winterize my chicken coop
- By the first week of October, butcher about 12 Rhode Island Red roos
- Finish painting the addition
- Finish moving in to my house
- Finish harvesting the garden
- Clean up the holiday trailer we borrowed to live in while we were "in transition" this summer
On Jason's To-Do list:
- Skirt the trailer (huge job)
- Hook up the addition
- Attach the deck
- Build new stairs, since we have the trailer blocked significantly higher than the previous owners did
- Plus more...
At the end of August, I had only a few tomatoes on any of my plants--the plants were strong and lush from all the rain, but there had not been enough heat to produce fruit on many of them. I was disappointed, but since this is my first year growing tomatoes, I tried not to take it too personally. However, there are now tomatoes on nearly every plant I have. Even the lone rare strain of Oxheart that I received from my friend Doug F. produced one lonely, large, though misshapen fruit. I hope the seeds are fertile. (It looks like it grew around the clover, or something!)
