Many of the Birdhouse Gourds we harvested last Fall are molding to death as they hang in the garage to dry. I didn't realize that I should have snipped their little stems mid-August and let them dry on the vine. We live and learn, people. I think we'll have plenty of good ones to use in farm camp for crafts this year anyway. (We hung up fifty or so and many of them are looking good.) I hope Audra (the person in charge of crafts) is thinking of what we can do with all these guys. When she called this afternoon to visit about something, her youngest little guy was screaming his sweet head off, so I doubt she has given Treehouse Gourds much thought.
The daily adventure of the genealogy continues. Here is my command module.
I am a visual person. Yes, I'm making progress and discovering new things every day, but need to write everything down, read it again, and organize it with everything else I have about that person or family. I am thinking about drawing a huge timeline on the wall in black sharpie and filling in the names of everyone and where they come into the story. It would make so much more sense to me.
That's why I like paper maps. I want to be able to see the whole thing at once. Then I can go
I finally tied up a lot of loose ends around here today: sent the pecans off to my brother, went round 5 with the oil company about the mineral rights on a certain quarter of land, took a pile of things to Goodwill (or the equivalent in Enid), had lunch with a friend I have been missing, bought some more plastic page covers, paid the bills, took the check to the bank. All those
Where is the poetry lately? I have wondered that myself, now that you ask. I have begun reading Mary Oliver before going to bed each night, in the hopes she will inspire me.
The Crocus are blooming at Dad's and Daffodils are shooting up everywhere in his yards. My gardens are sound asleep, except for that tiny Viola that has continued to bloom all winter. That's okay. We aren't even to February yet and you and I both know what happens in February. No, not flowers and chocolates, ice and snow. Wait for it, wait for it.....