Wife, writer, tinkerer, grower of food. I'm happiest outside our rambling farmhouse with a basket looped on my arm, picking dinner from the garden. That's joy right there. Please follow along; I'm so glad you're here!
We had such a good weekend. Usually, we get Saturday together, and Patrick has a most-of-the-day band rehearsal on Sunday. And usually, that's fine by me. But when a Sunday comes along with no rehearsal, I am more than happy to spend another day relaxing (or, as it turns out, getting stuff done) with Patrick.
This weekend was a good one to have an extra day. Saturday we went to look at some shelter dogs. It has been a long, cold, lonely winter without a dog. I have been telling myself I'm ready for weeks, (Patrick, naturally, took longer to feel ready) but now I'm so glad I waited. We walked the loud hallway down between the cages of wishful dogs and I got SO teary. Immediately teary. I'm glad we waited.
Anyway, we fell a little too much in love, as I supposed we might. There was a golden retriever-shar pei mix named Dale. There was an application in ahead of us, though. We are waiting to hear. We are hoping, which is bad, but we are.
Sunday we worked around the old homeplace. Spring's a-comin on strong. Patrick put a new set of tires on the mower while I dug and transplanted a bunch of peonies, and planted some rose-of-sharon volunteers a neighbor had given my parents. It feels wonderful to be on the receiving end of everyone's giveaways-- and to have the room for them. I felt so daunted by the enormous blank slate of our yard when we moved here, but now that I've conjured a plan for every corner it all just feels like so much delicious potential.
I spent yesterday working on our new compost bin, and today I'm going to work through yesterday's sore muscles and continue the project, adding to it a new and expanded chicken yard. It's looking good.