Uncle Jack to the Rescue - March 25, 2021

 

We plan to take a little trip next week, and it occurred to me today that the little tomato seedlings that sprouted this week will probably die while I'm gone unless I can find someone to take care of them for me.

A few minutes after I began to worry about the tomato seedlings, Uncle Jack's granddaughter came into the office where I was working, and it hit me: Uncle Jack has a greenhouse.  His granddaughter (who also calls him "Uncle Jack") said he would be delighted to babysit my plants.

So this afternoon I called his house.  Aunt Myra said he was napping, but she was certain that he would love to be a foster parent to my tomatoes.  I'm going to take them to him tomorrow.  

Uncle Jack is the best.  :)

Tomatoes Sprouted - March 23, 2021

 

The tomato seeds I planted last week are sprouting.  I'm worried that they're going to get leggy, even though I have two "full-spectrum" lights on them.  They'll go out to the porch the minute I think they can take it.

Hyacinth Bean Vine Sprouts - March 21, 2021

 

Looky here; the hyacinth bean vine seeds are sprouting.

This just happened TODAY.  There were no sprouted seeds in that tray yesterday afternoon.  The one in the lower left corner is even trying to crank out its first real leaves.  

I planted the seeds 10 days ago, after soaking them for 24 hours.  Covered the "tray" with press-n-seal to preserve moisture, and I think that I have not watered them since the planting.  They've been on the back porch the whole time.  I should probably move them to the front porch, where they'll get more light.  Daytime temperatures have been in the 60ish range, mid thirties at night.  

My friend who gave me the seeds said that I could've probably poked them right in the ground.  As wet as my ground is right now, that's probably true. 

I planted about 20 seeds in that box.  Who wants some plants (if I don't kill them)?

Sticks - March 21, 2021

 

Yesterday was the official first day of spring.  I can't think of a year when I've been happier to mark the day.

I was outside early, pruning rose bushes and checking to see what was budding or blooming.

After lunch, The Husband said it would be a good day to trim Nanny's crape myrtles.  She wanted it done last year, but we never got around to it.  This year, she has already mentioned it several times.  The bushes - effectively TREES - are growing near both ends of her front porch.  They were far taller than the roof, and the limbs were bigger around than my arms.  We hitched the wagon to the 4-wheeler, loaded up the chainsaw, and headed down Nanny's driveway.

We almost killed Nanny several times before we got the job done.  She insisted on helping, even though we begged her to just supervise from the porch.  As The Husband lopped off the limbs, I grabbed them and swung them around so that he could cut them into manageable chunks.  Nanny would stand too close as I was swinging the limbs around, and I almost whacked her several times.  

We piled the big chunks in the wagon and threw the tops in a heap in the front yard, intending to pile them on another heap of limbs in the pasture in front of her house, where my son had piled some brush he had cut along her driveway last fall.   Crape myrtle wood is very cool.  The limbs are straight and smooth, and the wood is hard.  As we filled up the first wagon-load of wood and prepared to dump it somewhere, I kept thinking what a shame it was to waste that beautiful wood.  Then it occurred to me that Cousin Roger might want it for his new wood-working projects.  Those limbs would make great legs for rustic stools, assuming Roger could figure out how to dry it without it splitting.  

The Husband hauled the wood over to Roger's house (I saved a long, straight piece for myself), and Roger said he'd give it a try, so they unloaded it, and The Husband came back to start on the second tree.

By this time, Nanny had experienced a few dizzy spells from all the bending and raising up, and we asked her to please, please sit this one out.  She sat down on the porch steps to "supervise" while we trimmed the second tree.  At one point, one of the limbs fell toward the porch and missed her by about an inch. 

After The Husband drove the second load of wood over to Roger's, we had to figure out how to move the crape myrtle tops away from the front yard.  It took us a minute.  We laid out a tow-strap on the ground in front of the first pile, and The Husband used the bucket on his new tractor to push the brush onto the strap.  We bundled the brush with the strap, and he dragged it to the pasture and came back for the second pile.  Made quick work of that job.  It took a little longer to rake up all the stray sticks and haul them away.

When we finished, I commented that I was hungry, and Nanny invited us to a supper of left-over spaghetti.  I was glad for the invitation, for the thought of going home to cook was not all that appealing.  We'd probably have had toast if it had been left up to me.

It was pushing 8 o'clock by the time we came home.  I took a shower, popped a couple of Tylenol, and went to bed.

Equipped! - March 20, 2021

 

I spoke a little too soon about having no side effects from the covid vaccination.  Got the shot Wednesday night, felt fine most of the day Thursday, but Thursday evening, my tailfeathers began to droop.  I felt a little headache-y, a little tired, and a little nauseous.  The Husband was feeling the same way.  Before bed, I popped two Tylenol and slept for 10 hours straight.  Yesterday for about half of the day I had a sharp, come-and-go headache, but it went away mid-afternoon and I felt fine.

Cousin Roger showed up after lunch with some sandpaper replacements.  He will probably be borrowing them back again when he uses up the ones he bought for himself.

The Husband went to pick up the new tiller yesterday afternoon.  I'm anxious to see it in action.  

Speaking of tillers, the small engine repair guy called Thursday afternoon and said that the little red tiller could not be fixed.  He said that the plastic fuel lines were the root of the problem, that "plastic and gas don't mix."  Evidently (according to him), the gas dissolves the plastic, and the residue gets in the engine and gums up the works.  I found this a little puzzling.  The tiller is practically new; I bet it hasn't been used a total of 30 minutes.  I watched some YouTube videos on the subject, and I'm convinced that the tiller can be fixed with new fuel lines (and maybe a new fuel filter).  I am going to order some parts to see if I can fix the thing, myself.  

Vaccinated - March 18, 2021

 

Well, I got my covid shot last night.  Did not cry.  Got my chocolate milkshake (small, from Sonic, with whipped cream).  Haven't felt badly today.  

Yesterday's storm was followed by a nasty cold wind.  I brought in the plants and the seed-starting trays that I'd taken outside two days ago.  I hope this cold snap doesn't last long.  

Yesterday I decided to try out my sublimation printing stuff.  The sublimation ink was already in the printer.  All I needed to do was introduce the printer to the computer.  

This took over three hours.  The printer found the wi-fi, but the computer couldn't find the printer.  When I first set up this computer, I chose the highest security for every feature I could find - camera, microphone, etc.  Most likely, I've told this computer that it cannot communicate with anything, except it does know about the other wireless printer in the sewing room.  Maybe those two printers are having a silent argument about who gets the job.  I don't know.  I temporarily got around the problem by hooking up the printer and the computer with a USB cable.

The little project I wanted to do was a t-shirt for Granddaughter #1.  I had a light gray polyester baseball shirt in her size.  She is in the high school band, so I used the band logo, plus her name (craftily combined  with the band logo), plus a flute.  The whole thing came out a little too faint, and the flute, being silver, all but disappears against the light gray shirt.  I need to figure out why the transfer was too faint - was it the print setting, the ink quality, the paper quality, or the wrong time/temperature of the heat press.  Can you tell I don't know what I'm doing?  

But The Granddaughter liked the shirt, despite its failings.  It is soft and comfy.

Stormy Day - March 17, 2021

 

Happy St. Patrick's Day to you.  

I got out of bed at 6 a.m. and went straight to the sewing room to work on the super-hero quilt.  One final burst of energy last night enabled me to measure and cut the border fabric before I went to bed.  This morning I sewed them on, and the top was ready for quilting.  I dropped it off at the quilt store on my way to work.

It was raining pretty hard when I got to the office.  The Boss was already there.  She said, "It's supposed to storm, and we're not staying here today."  We shot the bull for a few minutes and headed home.  Thank goodness for the new windshield wiper blades we installed yesterday, for the rain was coming down in buckets when I left the office.  

And now I'm home, and without a project in progress I'm a little stir-crazy.  

I have at least one more granddaughter quilt to make, for the Nugget, age 6.  (I gave the newest granddaughter a baby quilt a couple of weeks ago, so if I get struck by lightning, or something, before I get around to making her a big girl quilt, she technically already has a "grandmother quilt.")  

Several years ago, Santa Claus (or maybe the Birthday Fairy) brought me a little hand-crank machine that cuts out fabric shapes.  Along with the machine, he/she/it brought me several dies - squares, circles, hexagons, and hearts.  One day when the Nugget was about 4, I got out the machine and let her cut shapes from fabric in the scrap box.  Now and then, she still wants to get out the machine and cut shapes.  After she leaves, I gather up her shapes and save them in a bag.  When I get around to making her quilt, I'm going to use those shapes in it, somehow.

Not day, though.

Today, I think I'll play with the heat-press machine.

Tonight, I get vaccinated.  

More Garden Prep - March 16, 2021

 

I had a lot on my after work to-do list.

1.  Buy fabric for the borders for The Granddaughter's super-hero quilt.  Done.

2.  Buy a sparkplug for the little red tiller - had a bit of a problem finding the right one, but got it done.

3.  Get new windshield wiper blades.  Done.  

4.  Get seed-starting mix and trays to start some tomato plants.  Done.

My top goal was to get the quilt borders on the quilt so that tomorrow I could take it to be quilted.  The minute I got home, I tossed the fabric into the washing machine to pre-shrink it, and while the washing machine was running, I went outside to the patio table to plant the tomato seeds.  Having room left over in the planting tray (there were only 25 tomato seeds in one packet, and only 10 in the other), I planted larkspur in the empty spots.

There are few places in my yard sunny enough to grow larkspur, and none of those places are existing beds.  One of the places is right along the driveway, where the soil is like concrete.  There's no way I'd even attempt digging it with a shovel.  Last summer, we'd tried unsuccessfully to crank the little red tiller, so I knew it needed work before I could use it.  (The big black one would do a better job, but it would be heck getting it up here from the garden shed at Nanny's.)  I would've suspected the carburetor was the problem except that I'd replaced it last year.  My son showed up over the weekend and tested the spark plug for  me, and pronounced it bad.  So my next order of business was to go out looking for a spark plug.  

As I was backing out of the driveway, I looked across the road and saw Nanny raking pine needles under the pine trees.  She had already raked up several monstrous piles of needles, and if I know Nanny, her next move would've been to bag up all that mess, or set fire to it.  I wanted them for mulch in the garden.  I hurried down her driveway and told her I would move the pine needles, then I went in search of the spark plug.  Found it, and a new gas can - hopefully one that won't leak gas down my leg while I'm trying to use it - and filled the can up with non-ethanol gas (which I hid in the garden shed to protect it from lawnmowers, outboard motors, and such).

When I got back from my shopping trip, I put on my gloves, grabbed the yard wagon and the spark plug and took off to Nanny's.  We loaded the wagon multiple times, and I dragged it up the hill multiple times and dumped the needles near the garden shed.  After that, I installed the new spark plug in the tiller, filled the tank with gas, and put the tiller in the yard wagon to take to my house.

I was completely certain that the tiller would crank.

I was wrong.

It hit off once or twice, but wouldn't stay running.  We fiddled with carburetor adjustments, and even tried cranking it with a power drill and a chuck, but IT WOULD NOT CRANK and keep running.  There's a small engine repair guy about 5 miles away.  I hauled it to him.

It was going on 7 pm when I finally started dinner.  The quilt border fabric is in the dryer now, and I'm too tired to fool with cutting and sewing it tonight.  And my muscles ache.  I think I shall have a Tylenol nightcap and go to bed.

Might do those quilt borders in the morning, before I go to work.

Might not.  ;)

Let the Gardening Begin - March 14, 2021

 

This morning on my way through the living room, I glanced at the television and saw an areal view of a homestead garden.  I said to The Husband, "Look at that big GARDEN.  That's a very nice GARDEN."  You see, I've been riding his butt about getting our garden ready to plant, since he's got a new tractor, and all.  He took the hint; about an hour later, he got busy with the breaking plow and the disc.  He says he's going to buy us a tiller this week, one that can be pulled behind the tractor.

Yes, it's too early to plant most things.  And, yes, it's supposed to rain for the next few days.  But we've got the garden in shape so that if I decide to plant some early stuff, I can get out the big black tiller and fix up a row or two.

After we came home from the garden, Cousin Roger showed up, riding his lawnmower.  He came to borrow my belt sander.  He's refinishing a porch swing that I gave him earlier in the week.  It's about half-rotten in spots, but I figured he could use it for a pattern to build another one, if he was of a mind to do so.  He ended up replacing the bad wood and is ready to sand off the old paint and refinish sit.  He was a bit dismayed that the only sanding belt I had was big grit stuff; he needed something a little less scratchy.  

I started to lay into him about using up all of my sandpaper.  He's borrowed ALL of my mouse sandpaper, and now he's done started on my belt sander stuff.  But I hated to fuss at him.  Cousin Roger has had a few bad years, with ailments brought on by too much beer and too many BC powders.  He was in the hospital last year, and because of the covid restrictions, he laid up in the hospital, alone, for about a week.  It wasn't his first hospital trip, but it was the first time that his mother wasn't there to take charge of the healthcare details.  Without mama there to run interference for him, he had to listen for himself to what the doctors were saying.  I believe he had a "come to Jesus" moment at the hospital, for he's been a new man ever since.  He's procured a little shed and has been busy making things out of wood.  He's a regular shopper at the local hardware store, and he's been doing some horse-trading to acquire some saws and such.  I'm proud for him, and happy to enable his woodworking projects.

But, damn, he's used up ALL my sandpaper.

So, as he was leaving with my belt sander and the rest of my mouse sandpaper, I hollered, "Hey, Roger, go buy your ass some sandpaper."

He hollered back, "A'ight."

"And buy me some while you're at it.  'Cause I'm OUT."

* * * * * * * * * * 

I spent ALL DAY Saturday and much of today in the sewing room, working on the super-hero quilt.  About 30 minutes ago, I finished piecing the top together.  It lacks the borders, but I don't have the fabric to do them.  I started to stop and get the fabric Friday after I left work, but I didn't figure I'd be ready for it by the end of the weekend, plus I really wanted to take the quilt top to the fabric store to make sure the colors match with the fabric I've picked out for the borders.  The fabric store is closed on Mondays, so it'll be Tuesday before I can get the fabric.  I hope to have it ready to be quilted by Thursday.  

I'll show you a picture when it's done.  :)

From the back porch - Wish List - March 12, 2021

 

In 18 months, I'm going to be out of a job.  The Boss is retiring in August 2022, and whoever the new person is will bring his/her own assistant.  Not so long ago, August 2021 seemed far, far away.  That's NEXT YEAR.  Geez!  Time has a way of sneaking past you, doesn't it? 

In any case, I need to be making a plan for what I'm going to be doing in September 2022.  I will be two years away from getting full retirement benefits.  I could probably pimp out my writing and research skills to some lawyers, but that won't help the retirement pay.  Besides that, The Boss has spoiled me something fierce, and it'll be hard to work for just anyone.  Maybe some other government office will hire me - I'm sure gonna try - but I can't count on that.   

What I would really like is this:  a two-room workshop in the back yard - one room for messy stuff and one for clean stuff.  Ideally, it would have heat, air-conditioning, and plumbing.   And a front porch big enough for a swing and a chair.  With cute flower boxes.  And a stepping-stone path to get there.

On the messy side, there would be saws and drills and such, a tall work table, and lots of shelves.  There'd also be a sit-down table for painting.  And a sink and a toilet.

I'm not sure what to do with the clean side.  If I had a better, less frustrating quilting machine, I'd set it up in there.  That would probably take up half of the room.  But maybe that would be okay.  

Hyacinth Bean Vine Seeds - March 11, 2021

 

I may be a little late getting them started, but today I planted some hyacinth bean vine seeds that my friend saved from her plants and mailed to me last year.  She sent about 20 seeds.  They actually do look like beans - they're black, with white "lips."  I soaked them in water for 24 hours.  One bit of info said that it may take 2 weeks for them to germinate.

I don't really have a good place to sprout seeds, and I don't have any "equipment" - no trays or grow lights.  There was a fairly full bag of potting soil in a cabinet on the back porch, and I cut down a Blue Apron box for a tray.  The Blue Apron shipment comes in a leak-proof insulated bag, so I cut it down, too,  and used it to line the cardboard tray.  It's about 6" deep, so there should be plenty soil for the seeds to develop good root systems.  (If they sprout, that is.)  I covered the whole business with Press and Seal to make a mini-greenhouse, and set it on a table on the back porch.  Once the seeds sprout, I'll move the box to the front porch, where it will get more light and where I will see it (and thus remember to water it) every day when I get home.

 

Well, I have another week to dread getting the covid shot.

It didn't happen yesterday.

After a good bit of research and frustration, I had booked a 2:30 appointment to get the J&J shot at the local Kroger store.  When I arrived for my appointment, I learned that the J&J vaccine is given ONLY at the Little Clinic, and ONLY between 6:30 and 7:30 p.m.  They would not give me the J&J shot at 2:30 p.m.  And, no, I couldn't just go back at 6:30 last night; all of those appointments were filled.

I was so irked.  Nowhere on the Kroger web site was I asked which vaccine I wanted, nor was I informed that the J&J vaccine is only given between 6:30 and 7:30 p.m.  I had simply grabbed the first available appointment.  Yes, when I booked the early afternoon appointment, I saw that the web site wanted me to choose a date/time for a second dose.  I went ahead and chose a date/time for the second dose, assuming that I'd be asked which shot I wanted when I arrived for the first appointment.  But that's not how it works. 

The staff at the Little Clinic gave me a toll-free number to call to book another appointment.  After listening to umpteen million recordings, another recording said all of the associates were assisting other customers, please wait for the next available associate.  I waited for a while, then gave up on the telephone attempt.  I got in my car and used my phone to go back to the Kroger web site, answered all those questions again, and finally got to the place where you choose an appointment time.  When I chose 6:30, the system said, "1 shot dose" and didn't ask for a second appointment time.  The first available appointment was a week away.  I booked appointments for The Husband and myself.

And then I sat in my car and growled in frustration.  

The really sad part was that I didn't get my milkshake.

You see, I had decided to reward myself with a chocolate shake after getting the shot, if I was a good girl and didn't cry or pass out.  I haven't had a milkshake in . . . well, I can't remember the last time I had one.  

I grumbled and groused (and maybe cussed a little) all the way home, having gotten neither the shot NOR the chocolate shake.

So I came home and made a pineapple cake with cream cheese frosting.  It satisfied the sweet craving that my plan had stirred up, but it didn't make me any less pissed-off.

  

Vaccination Day - March 10, 2021

 

In about 2 hours, I'm going to get my covid shot.  Do you want to hear a secret?  I am terrified of shots.  Other than finger-sticks during yearly physicals, I haven't had a shot of any description in about 50 years.  Sinus cocktail shot?  No, thank-you; I'll just take the pills.  If the covid vaccine came in tablet form, I'd be all over it, but it doesn't, so I've got to be brave and get 'er done today.

* * * * * * * 

I'm making good progress on The Granddaughter's quilt.  As we speak, super-hero #6 is coming to life in the embroidery machine.  I stopped by the sewing store this morning for more thread and some fabric to fill in the gaps between the super-hero blocks.  I've been racking my brain about what to do to the fill-in blocks.  The fabric store had patriotic prints, and I was tempted to get them, but that's too easy, and too . . . not personal.  The computer mock-up version that I showed The Granddaughter had large blue squares with a big white star in the center and plain red rectangles.  When I commented that I might do something different in the blue squares, The Granddaughter said "I kind of like the stars," so they're staying.  I played with the mock-up red rectangles a little bit today and decided to make them red-and-white stripes, kind of like the American flag stripes, instead of solid red.

The blue/green/black striped fabric that she chose two years ago isn't going in this quilt.  It just doesn't work.  And, anyway, I think she chose that fabric with a good bit of advice from her older sister; I'm not convinced she ever had her heart set on it in the first place.  So it's out.

Hah...if I hadn't already made a quilt for Granddaughter #1, I'd use that fabric on her.  ;)

"Stove up" - March 8, 2021

 

When I was a little kid, my daddy took me with him to a little country store down the road.  We were sitting on the porch drinking a Coke when a neighborhood resident drove up, got out of his truck, and limped toward the store.  Daddy spoke to him and asked him how he was doing, and he replied, "Man, I'm so stove up I cain't hardly move."  I had never heard the term "stove up," but I could tell from the way he was walking that he meant he was stiff.

Well, I am "stove up" today.  

It must have been Saturday morning, while I was working in the sewing room, that The Husband decided to spray furniture polish on some closet doors in our office.  Evidently, some of the spray drifted onto the laminate floor, for when I went buzzing through the room in my home-made felt-soled house shoes, I came very close to doing the splits.  The floor was as slippery as a sheet of ice.  Not knowing about the furniture polish, I attributed the near-fall to the felt-soled shoes and the speed at which I was moving.  

Fast forward an hour.  On the second trip through the office, I busted my ass in front of the closet doors.

That time, I raised a ruckus, at which time The Husband admitted that he had sprayed furniture polish on the closet doors.  He ran to get a towel and started smearing it around on the floor with his foot.  Knowing that this would only enlarge the slippery area, I went to get the mop and a bucket of soapy water.  

By Saturday night, my back muscles were hurting.  By yesterday morning, my thigh muscles were sore.  I spent a fairly miserable night, moaning in pain every time I tried to roll over.  Today, I'm "so stove up I cain't hardly move."  I know that the best remedy would be to get up and move, but I would like nothing more than to spend the day laid-up with a book.

Alas, it was not meant to be.  Work calls.  It's probably for the best.

A Busy Saturday - March 7, 2021

 

This week I've been determined to finish digitizing the #*)@! super-hero embroidery designs for The Granddaughter's quilt.  The plan for this weekend was to begin the actual embroidering.

Twelve super-heroes, twelve 12" x 12" blocks.  Before starting to embroider, I did a mock-up of the quilt using the pictures generated by my digitizing software, at which time I discovered that the twelve 12" x 12" blocks aren't nearly enough for a full-sized quilt, even with added borders.  There are more super-heroes that I could do, but I AM NOT GOING TO DO ANY MORE SUPER-HEROES.  This means that I will have to come up with something to fill some additional space.  So I did some sound effects:

That still wasn't enough to fill the space, so . . . . 

You get the idea.

In the middle of working on these things, my sister-in-law texted me a picture of a pillow she would like for me to reproduce.  Doing so would involve dragging out some of the new toys that I've yet to try, and probably a lot of starting over and a lot of cussing.  When I asked her when she would need it, she said it was a gift for an early April birthday.  The cussing commenced.

Meanwhile, the Four Granddaughters came to visit, a welcome diversion.  When I showed Granddaughter #2 the mock-up quilt, she said, "WOW!  That's so cool!"  

Winner, winner, chicken dinner.  ;)

When the girls left, I put the first super-hero in the machine and started the embroidering.  While that was happening, I pulled up the pillow picture.  It was not something I could easily reproduce in embroidery; I'd have to try the new vinyl heat-press sheets that came in the mail a month ago.  Using the vinyl sheet also would require a good bit of graphics editing on the computer before I could print the sheet, as I'd have to edit out the background, leaving only the design.  This was a pains-taking process, but I finally accomplished it late in the afternoon.  On to the printing and heat-pressing.

One of my new toys is a sublimation printer.  Actually, it's just a regular printer into which sublimation ink can be dispensed.  The printer came with 4 bottles of regular ink-jet ink.  Those bottles have special caps that can be snapped into place on the printer tank, and the ink will glug-glug-glug into the tank.  Unfortunately, the sublimation ink bottles do not have that same cap; I'd have to either inject the ink into the tanks with a shot needle - a monstrously aggravating process, I imagine - or put the sublimation ink into the ink-jet bottles.   But what to do with the ink-jet ink?  I hated to just pour it down the drain.  Seemed so wasteful.  As luck would have it, I had saved about a dozen little plastic vinegar bottles from our Blue Apron shipments.  It took two of those little bottles to hold one bottle of ink-jet ink.  And, of course, my hands are now technicolor from handling all these ink bottles.  But I got the sublimation ink into the ink-jet bottles without spilling too much.  

It was as I was snapping the last bottle onto the tank that I realized I could not use sublimation ink for what I wanted to do.  The pillow fabric is 100% cotton canvas.  Sublimation ink does not work well on cotton unless you treat it with something (or so I'm told), and I didn't have anything on hand to treat it with.  However, I did have some vinyl sheets that could be printed with regular ink-jet ink, which I could print on one of the old printers.  Having never used this vinyl, it took four tries before I got it right.  First, I couldn't get the heat press machine to work right.  Then, once I'd get the design pressed onto the pillow, I'd melt it up trying to "set" the design according to the instructions that came with the vinyl sheets.  I decided not to "set" the 4th try.  But this morning, I noticed a tiny corner that wasn't stuck well, and I screwed up again trying to set it, after all - a little bit of the ink came off.  Screw it.  I filled it in with a black pen.  Probably not a good idea, but I'm tired of fooling with it.  And I'm running low on vinyl ink-jet paper.  

From the back porch - March 4, 2021

 

What a great afternoon it is for porch-sitting!  I am perfectly comfortable in a t-shirt and shorts.

Buttercups are blooming, and many more ready to burst open.. Squirrels chasing each other up a tree.   

I am anxious for the ground to dry up so that The Husband can get in the garden with his tractor.  He's got a plan to "burn off" the garden this year in the hope of roasting the weed seeds so that they won't sprout, making for less weeding this summer.  He wants to plow the perimeter of the garden as a fire-break so we don't catch Nanny's yard on fire.  Sounds like a good plan to me.

Yet, I'm a little miffed about the whole thing.  You see what this is, don't you?  I've been asking him to help me burn off the garden for years, but there was always some excuse not to do it: too wet, too dry, too windy.  We've always had the big tiller to plow up the perimeter for a fire-break; we could've been doing it all along.  Two things changed this year:  (1) we bought a tractor last fall, and this is a good excuse to get to drive it; and (2) The Husband helped me tend the garden last year, and he now understands the weed problem.    

Last weekend, I took the quilt that I was making for my granddaughter to the quilt shop to be quilted and bound.  Picked it up Tuesday.  

As I said in a previous post, the granddaughter won't be getting it, because I could tell by the look on her face that she did not like it.  I'm not all that crazy about it, myself, but we'll use it for a blanket and move on.  Now, I've got to work on the quilt that she DOES want, a super-hero quilt.  I'll show you that one when I'm done with it.

Oh, and look what I found in my front yard this afternoon.  I guess all the rain flushed him right out of his crawdad hole.