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!
Just a quick post today. The humidity that dogged us all last week has cleared, and so I am making as many tracks as possible, as fast as possible. Yesterday I weeded all my flowers (half days' work), built most of a raised bed, sprayed borax on the English ground ivy (kills it and nothing else), canned applesauce from our own tree and bread and butter pickles from our own cucumbers, picked and shelled another basket of soup beans, blanched and froze broccoli, raked a lot of mowed grass (for mulch) and drained two glasses of Prosecco at the end of it all.
Today is more of the same. Not that I'm complaining. September is like a tournament, where you focus and buckle down and make the three months of labor you've already logged really count.
I'm happy to be here. I'm happy to not have much desk-work right now, so I can get ahead of autumn before it really comes rolling in.
I'm also so happy to have this guy, to remind me (because I often need a reminder) that I should just sit, and rest, and snuggle.