TBW is back in town! Whoopie! Yeehaw! and Hold onto your hats!
After a night full of the gentle sounds of rain,
I stepped out into a morning of sunshine and wind.
(I think TBW knows when I am writing about it because it just now
picked up and one of the kids' plastic sand buckets
went tumbling north across the porch...weird.)
I spent the morning in the garden, watering and weeding,
digging the last few sweet potatoes which I missed the first time around.
One bunch had grown beautiful tubers right in the middle of the roots
of a clump of Johnson Grass...hmmm....the forbidden love affair perhaps?
Anyway, the Johnson Grass roots went over the creek bank to help
hold the soil and the sweet potatoes went into the bucket for supper
some cool evening this Fall.
Ah...lovers, wrested from each other's arms.
Sorry guys, you knew what it was.......
I gave the mums a good soaking (I know, I said it rained in the night,
but that doesn't mean the ground was damp this morning. We probably
only got twenty hundredths of an inch
('tweuny-hunerts' as the old farmers say.)
I trekked up to the cemetery, trowel in hand,
for the Annual Autumn planting of the bulbs
and came home exhausted from fighting with
the clods and the rock hard soil,
trying to get the daffodils and tulips tucked in for the winter.
I will have to go back with some good compost to add another layer
over the top or they won't be buried deep enough. Sheesh!
COME ON RAIN, WE'RE READY FOR YA!
I see that the Cottonwoods have speckled the yard with the first
volley of golden leaves, although I don't see any
up in the treetops; it begins.
They are always the first to let their leaves go,
the canaries in the mines, if you will. That's fine...
more than fine, it's wonderful beyond imagining.
I think we have all fully experienced Summer this year.
I'm off to see my Dad and gather wildflower seed along the highway
on the way there. I hope only good things for you all today and always.
Be a blessing to someone you meet, someone you might not even know,
sometimes eye contact, or a smile, or the lifting of a hand
gives someone the courage to keep living.