I am happy to report that the gnat population in our house is considerably thinner, thanks to the vinegar/sugar/soap combo.  We actually did not know that we had SO MANY gnats in the house.  We set out three bowls of gnat bait.  I counted about 40 deceased gnats in one of the kitchen bowls, and probably 30 more in the other two, combined.  I dumped all of the bowls and re-filled them with fresh bait this morning, mostly just to keep track of how many new ones we're offing.

It irks me that the gnats spend a lot of time crawling around inside the bowls without getting in the vinegar, so I tried an experiment.  I sprayed a saucer with quilt basting spray (glue in spray form), put some new vinegar in the saucer, and waited for a gnat to land on the saucer, hoping he'd get stuck in the glue.  He crawled around all over the glue, and it didn't stick him to the saucer, but it seemed like it kept him from getting enough "lift" to fly away.  He out-smarted me by crawling off the saucer then flying away.

Yeah, I lead an exciting life.

* * * * * * * * 

It's a little after 8 p.m., and it's already pitch dark outside.  The days are getting shorter.  Most people I know like Daylight Savings Time for the extra evening light, but I don't.  I like my daylight in the morning.  When my sons were little, it was hard to get them inside for dinner in the summer, and hard to get them to go to sleep at a reasonable hour when it was still a little bit light outside.  Being a morning person, my energy evaporates fairly early in the evening, and I want to go to bed!

When The Husband and I married, we quickly realized a difference of opinion about bed-time.  I'd always gone to bed about 9; his bed-time was closer to 11.  We compromised on 10 and have stuck to it for these 40+ years.  But by 10, I have been worthless for 2 hours.  

I'm worthless right now.  

Good night.  :)

Gnats and Ida - August 30, 2021

It's raining at my house, courtesy of Hurricane Ida.  The garden needs it.  Before the rain started, the wind blew scary hard for a few minutes, and I thought about the poor folks on the Gulf Coast who were getting much scarier wind.  Prayers for you guys, and for all the folks heading north on the roads.

It was a quiet day around my house.  Everybody's a tad under the weather - nothing serious (we hope!), just drippy noses, and such.  The Grandson was here all day, but he kind of did his own thing while we did ours.  The Husband's been playing his ukulele with internet play-along videos.  I've worked on an embroidery design (it's in the machine right now, being tested).  

And I've been fighting gnats all day.  There are two crawling frantically around my computer screen as I write this.  :-\

What I've done so far:  (1) poured diluted bleach down the kitchen sink; (2) made a trap with a plastic bottle with vinegar in the bottom (my gnats seem to prefer red wine vinegar over apple cider vinegar); (3) mixed vinegar, sugar, and dish detergent in a plastic-wrap-covered bowl with holes poked in the wrap; (4) same mixture in a shallow bowl, and (5) same mixture in a saucer.  

Gnats are so dumb.  They could not figure out the soda bottle, or maybe I just didn't give them enough time, but not ONE GNAT went in.  They crawled all over the outside and inside the funnel part, but couldn't seem to figure out where the smell was coming from.  Same deal with the plastic wrap.  I took the wrap off the bowl, and after a while I finally caught one!  There were others swarming around the bowl, but they seemed scared to actually go down to the vinegar.  I commented that maybe they knew their friend was dead in the vinegar, to which The Husband replied, "YOU KILLED KENNY!  You BASTARDS!"  

I poured some of the vinegar/sugar/soap mixture into a saucer and took it to the living room, where gnats have been trying to fly up our noses while we watch TV.  They're also annoying me in the office, and in my sewing room.  Are these things following me around or are they living in every room???  

This afternoon, while I was cooking dinner, I pulled out the basket of onions I keep on a shelf near the stove, and a whole cloud of gnats came out with it.  When I inspected the onions, I discovered that two of them were kind of mushy and stinky.  They may be what's been keeping these *ssholes alive.

So far, I've caught about 20 gnats, not counting the three I poured out of the cold coffee in the coffee pot when I was cleaning up the kitchen, and the 10 or so I've smacked with my hand.  And still I see them scrambling around on the countertops and table.  *sigh*

I'm about ready to move.

Squirrel Huntin' and Spraying Bugs - August 29, 2021

 Squirrel (hunting) season opened yesterday.  The Grandson (age 14) called, wanting to know if he and a friend could come over to our house to go hunting.  I picked him up before dinner.  His plan was to get up before sunrise to be in the woods when the squirrels woke up.

It was daylight when I woke up.  On my way to the coffee pot, I noticed that his bedroom door was closed and figured he was probably still asleep.  Two hours later, when the aroma of bacon wafted through the house, he emerged from the bedroom.  He'd decided to hunt at sundown instead of sunrise.

He waited all day for his friend to come over, but late in the afternoon he learned that his friend's father wouldn't let him come.  The Grandson was disappointed (I was sort of relieved, for I don't know how much hunting experience/training his friend had), but planned on going to the woods by himself.

About sundown, The Grandson suited up and headed to the woods.  I was nervous.  Earlier in the day, in broad daylight, I'd heard coyotes yipping in the bottom.  Also, The Grandson doesn't know these woods very well.  I was afraid he'd goof around in the woods until dark and get lost.  We'd told him to take a flashlight, but he'd walked off without it.  We sat on the back porch, listening.

Just before dark, we heard a shotgun blast.  A few seconds later, another shot.  "Missed it the first time," I said, to which The Husband replied, "If he got it that time, he probably won't be able to find it in the dark."

To my great relief, The Grandson came walking into the yard a few minutes later.  He hadn't got a squirrel, but he did get an armadillo.

Good work, Grandson.

* * * * * * * * * 

Thursday evening, I went to the garden to get a couple of tomatoes for dinner.  While I was there, I checked on the butterbeans.  They were covered in lice and choked with morning glories.  The leaves looked like lace, victims of grasshoppers that were happily munching during my inspection.  Friday evening, I went back to spray for bugs.  Nanny saw me crossing the yard and came out to the porch to warn me that it was too hot to work in the garden.  I swore I wouldn't be long.  The sprayer was already full of bug spray; all I had to do was grab it from the shed and get busy.

It took longer than I expected, for I tried to pull out some of the morning glories as I moved down the row.  Every few minutes, Nanny would holler from the back porch, "Are you allright?" and I'd holler back, "Yeah."  

The new purple hull peas were being bug-eaten, too, and morning glories were coming up in the rows.  I sprayed and pulled weeds, sprayed and pulled weeds, with Nanny periodically hollering, "All you allright?" and me hollering back, "Yeah."  

The butterbeans needed watering, but it was getting too dark to see by the time I finished spraying and weeding.  I intended to go back to do some watering yesterday, but never got around to it.  There's a hurricane brewing down south, and we may get some rain from it today or tomorrow, so maybe I won't do any watering today, either.

* * * * * * * * * * 

The Grandson spent the night again last night, said he was going to go squirrel hunting this morning.  

His bedroom door is still closed.  :)

Short Days - August 26, 2021

 

The days are getting noticeably shorter.  It's a little after 8 p.m. as I write this, and our yard is already dark.

I fixed us a cornbread salad for supper tonight.  It was tasty.  We had four wedges of box-mix cornbread left over from a few days ago.  I cut it into 1" cubes, put it on an oiled cookie sheet, and toasted it in the oven at 400 degrees for 10 minutes.  They came out perfect.  In a bowl, I cut up a couple of green onions, about 3 tomatoes, half of a peeled and seeded cucumber, a pimiento pepper and a cuban pepper, and dumped a can of drained & rinsed chili beans in with it.  Oh, and some crumbled bacon.  Tossed it all together with the cornbread.  Most of the cornbread salad recipes called for putting rand dressing on the salad, but we just dressed ours on our plates.

After supper, The Husband went down to the shop at Nanny's to put a new battery on the lawnmower.  While he did that, I cut the okra.  Got a LOT.  Picked a few tomatoes and peppers and green beans.  We'll probably give most of it to co-workers.

By the time I got the okra cut, it was too dark to do anything else.

The butterbeans have lice/aphids.  They need to be sprayed and watered good.  The weatherman is predicting rain for the next few days, more likely as the week rolls on.  I'm going to spray the butterbeans tomorrow and see if Mother Nature will take care of the watering.

Sick Day - August 24, 2021

 

Sunday evening, The Boss called me with "a covid update."  She had been in fairly close proximity with someone who tested positive for the virus a day or two later.  The Boss had covid back in December, and she's been vaccinated, but she's aware that breakthrough infections can occur.  We were supposed to ride to work together in a county that's nearly two hours away, and she was worried about exposing me.

I have felt pretty crappy, myself, for about a month - sinus congestion, headache, sporadic sore throat and earache, but no fever or coughing.  When The Boss called, I was feeling even worse.  I attributed it to being tired from my sleepless nights in Chattanooga and the dust from the hotel renovations, but I was contemplating getting a covid test the next day if I wasn't feeling any better.  

The Boss told me to stay home Monday.  She didn't have to ask twice.

As it turned out, I did feel a little better Monday after a good night's sleep and a big dose of sinus medicine.  Good thing, because I had a lot of stuff I needed to do.  My car needed to be picked up from the body shop.  We needed groceries.  The vegetable garden hadn't had any attention for a week.  I sat down at the computer to order groceries for pick-up, but the store couldn't have the order ready until the next day, so I'd have to actually go to a grocery store (HORRORS!) for something for supper.

I got dressed and went to town and paid the auto body shop for the repair to my car.  Since I was alone and had no one to drive my car home, I asked the dude to park it where I could get to it after hours, planning to go back to town to get it when The Husband came home.  Then I went to the grocery store and ran some other errands around town.  Then I came home, put away the groceries, and went to the garden to get some vegetables for supper.  

The okra was out of control.  Nanny had cut it last week and had canned 8 pints of pickled okra, but the stalks were loaded again.  I cut a plastic grocery bag full of okra.  Gave a bunch of it to my sister-in-law, who happened to be at Nanny's while I was there.  Roasted some in the oven for supper.  Sent the rest of it to work with The Husband this morning.

While traveling, we'd eaten nothing but fast food and restaurant dinners, and I was hungry for a home-cooked meal.  I'd bought a beef roast for supper, and when I came back from the garden, I started cooking it with potatoes, carrots, onions, tomatoes and peppers from the garden, rich, delicious gravy.  Roasted okra.  I'd bought some good dinner rolls to go with it all, and I'd timed my cooking just right to have it ready when The Husband came home so that we could eat, go get my car from the body shop, and get back home at a reasonable hour.

"The best laid plans," as they say.  Just as I was about to pop the rolls in the oven, The Husband called.  He was still at work.  It would be over an hour before he got home.  

Great.  

I put everything back in the oven to keep it warm.

It was almost 9 p.m. by the time we got the car home.

I'm still feeling crappy, but I'm going to work.  

 

Home again - August 21, 2021

 

It was raining Thursday morning as I was writing my previous post.  When it was finished, I didn't know what to do with the rest of my day.  I wanted to get the truck and go out exploring, but I also didn't want to do that.  I'm not used to driving the truck, and the streets were wet.  It seemed like a gamble.  Besides that, I hadn't slept well the night before, and I had a headache and a stuffy nose to boot.  Instead of going out, I dug my Kindle out of my bag, put the "Do Not Disturb" tag on the outside door handle, climbed back in bed, and picked up where I'd left off in my book.  

Four hours later, The Husband startled me awake when he came back to the room after the lunch break.  He said the seminar gang was going out for dinner.  The reservation was for six o'clock.   When he left the room for the afternoon seminar session, I showered and put on some comfy clothes, and spent the rest of the afternoon doing genealogy research online.  Later that evening, I wasn't thrilled to put on "real" clothes and go out to dinner, but I did it.  We ate at a place called "Hennan's," and the food was good, and I enjoyed the company and was glad I'd gone.

Back at the hotel, The Husband had another short meeting to attend.  Instead of going up to our rooem, I waited for him in the lobby.  While I waited, the fire alarm went off again.  "Do not use the elevators."  It was 10 p.m.  I thanked my luck that I was on the ground floor and didn't have to go down 10 flights of stairs.   The firetrucks came again.  After about 10 minutes, they sounded the "all clear," and the hotel guests who'd hoofed it down umpteen flights of steps came pouring back into the lobby from all sides.  Half of them were still breathing hard from their descent.  Nobody was happy.  One elderly lady plopped down in the chair next to mine and fanned her face with her hand.  She said, "I'd like to take this jacket off, but I didn't take the time to put on a bra!"  I laughed and suggested she should just go for it, and she did.

Thankfully, the fire alarm did not go off again.  But I did not sleep well for the third night in a row.

The seminar was over Friday at noon, but we'd booked the hotel room for one more night.  We drove across the river in search of a restaurant owned by my cousin's daughter.  Finding the place was a nightmare.  Traffic was bumper to bumper.  I was mapping us with my phone as The Husband drove, and the little dot that was US was right on the address, and still we couldn't find it.  Nor could we find a place to park.  Every parking lot in the vicinity had signs warning us against parking there if we didn't want to be towed.    We finally found a pay lot a few blocks from the dot on the map, and looked for the place on foot.  Still, we couldn't find the place.  Eventually, we poked our head in a shop and asked where the restaurant was.  The entrance was on the BACK SIDE of the building, and  was shaded under the back stairs of the shop above it. 

The restaurant, Cashew, is a vegan restaurant.  The special of the day was a mediterranean grilled cheese sandwich, with spinach, olives, tomatoes, and onions, served with tomato basil soup - right up my alley.  It was very good.  We bought two vegan cupcakes to go, and then ventured into the shops up and down the street.  After that, we drove up to Signal Mountain.  

On our way back to the hotel, we killed some time at an antique store.  Spent a whopping $10 on two wall-mount guitar holders.

It was almost dinnertime by the time we got back to the hotel.  We spent some time doing the routine:  "What do you want for dinner?" "I don't know, what do YOU want?"  Eventually, we settled on going up to the hotel bar.  Two sandwiches, two beers, and two gin & tonics cost a fortune.

I was straight-up ready to go home.  We were out of there by 9 a.m., made it home around 3 p.m.  I desperately wanted a nap, but resisted.  

I slept alllllll night last night, at home in my own bed.

It's good to be home!

Chattanooga - August 19, 2021

 

The Husband has a seminar to attend in Chattanooga.  When he registered for this event a long time ago and asked if I wanted to go, too, I said, "Yes!"  These seminars usually have a fun activity or two - a big party with a band, or some excursion - and I planned on driving to Georgia to visit a friend after the fun stuff, while The Husband was in the seminar.

As it turned out, the thing isn't lasting as long as I thought, so the trip to Georgia came off the agenda.  Still, I thought I might have some fun on my one "solo day" here in Chattanooga.

We arrived Tuesday evening.  The hotel lobby was fairly well draped in black plastic sheeting.  Looked like repair work going on, or maybe just remodeling.  In any case, it was noisy - electric drills and cutters buzzing, workers and guests yelling at one another over the noise.

At dinnertime, we walked up the street to a hamburger joint.  As we waited to order, I spied some good-looking onion rings on nearby tables, and I ordered some for myself.  They were as delicious as they looked, and I ate every one of them.  Huge mistake.  My digestive system is unaccustomed to deep-fried food.  I spent a great deal of the night in the bathroom.

Yesterday morning, we took breakfast at the hotel dining room.  Just as we were about to finish our meal, lights started flashing over the exits, and soon a voice came over the intercom and instructed everyone to leave the building - "Do not use the elevators."  As the voice was speaking, a fire truck drove up to the hotel.  Then another fire truck.  We hurried to pay our bill.  The hotel staff did not seem too panicked.  The cashier told us that probably someone was smoking in a room.  I was grateful that we were on the second floor instead of in our room on the 10th floor.  

The official seminar festivities weren't scheduled to start until early evening, so we had a little time to burn in the morning.  After an hour or so of, "What do you want to do?" - "I don't know.  What do you want to do?" - I booked us for an hour-long train ride.  The booking site had a link to "Get Directions."  According to the map, it was supposed to be a 20-minute drive.  I saved the directions in my phone's map app, and we hit the road.  We left the hotel far earlier than was necessary, thinking we'd locate the train depot, then do a little sight-seeing until it was time to board.  Good thing we started early.

The map app took us on a winding trip to the buttcrack of nowhere - down a narrow road to a small metal shop building enclosed by a chain-link fence.  No train - nor even train tracks - in sight.  Fortunately, there was a worker in a truck in the driveway.  He knew the street address of the depot where we were to catch the train.  Evidently, he gives it out quite often.

At the train depot, I told the lady at the ticket window about the mis-guidance on the map app.  She knew.  "Believe me, we've tried!" she said, when I suggested they should get the ticket app to fix it.  

The train ride was okay.  I'd thought it might be a scenic ride, but it wasn't; it was a lesson about train history.  The train rolled slowly along tree-shaded tracks while one of the conductors told stories about the rail and the cars.  At the end of the line, the engine un-hitched from the cars and drove onto a turn-table, which pivoted it around to pull the cars back to the depot.  While this was happening, the conductor gave us a tour of the shop where old engines and cars are repaired and revamped for use.  After the shop tour, we all got back on the train and went back to the depot.  The whole thing took about an hour, start to finish.

The seminar's welcome festivities were here at the hotel, and across the street at the convention center.  There was complimentary liquor, a buffet-style dinner, and a pretty good band that played 80s and 90s music.  

I could not believe they were doing a buffet dinner in the midst of the covid surge.  Thankfully, we were seated at the same table as one of the seminar "honorees," and they sent our table to the buffet first.  Dinner was typical "event" food - roast beef or pork, mashed potatoes, salad - but we were glad to get it, for we hadn't eaten since breakfast.  And I was glad that it was plain food, for my gut was still grumbling about the onion rings.

The band was good.  They had a 21-year-old guitar player who stole the show, in my opinion.  That kid is going places, I bet.

Despite the bland food, my tummy complained for much of the night.

I had hoped to do some exploring today, but I'm a little bit reluctant to get out in traffic.  The streets in Chattanooga seem unusually narrow.  And I'm no longer accustomed to driving in city traffic.  And it's raining.  

Maybe I should just curl up with a book, eh?

Canning Tomatoes - August 15, 2021

 Well, Nanny pulled a fast one on me today.  I told you a couple of days ago that I'd picked a two or three  of gallons of tomatoes, intending to give them to Nanny to can because she'd said she wanted to can some more.  When I came out of the garden and presented them to her, she got a funny look on her face, and ended up telling me that she wouldn't have time to do them this weekend.  I told her I'd just bring them up to my house and put them on the back porch for a day or two since they weren't too ripe to keep.  That two or three gallons wasn't really enough to fool with, anyway, but there were more in the garden that would be ready by Sunday.

I got up early this morning and went to get the rest of the ripe tomatoes.  Got another two or three gallons, which, added to what I had on the porch, was enough to fool with.  My plan was to scald them, peel them, chop them, and deliver them to Nanny to can.  

While I was gone, Nanny called The Husband and said she had some quart jars if I needed them.

And I was, like, What?

The Husband said she sounded a little raspy and maybe she wasn't feeling good.

So I ended up canning the tomatoes, myself.  Made 6 quarts.  And I'm taking them to her, because I don't have room to store 6 more quarts of tomatoes unless I rearrange my cabinet, and that ain't happening.  

Before I picked tomatoes, I checked on the purple hull peas.  We have a terrific stand of peas this time.  They ought to make enough to last Nanny all winter, if the frost doesn't get them.

Concert - August 15, 2021

 

Way back in the fall of 2019, as I was on my way to the coffee pot for my first cup of Joe, the local TV station announced that James Taylor, with "special guest" Jackson Browne, was coming to town in July 2020.  My birthday is in July, and I love James Taylor's music.  We've been to several of his concerts.  I love Jackson Browne's music, too, but have never seen him in concert.  Though I generally do not speak until I've had at least a sip of coffee, I turned to The Husband and said, "That would make a great birthday present for me."  

He bought the tickets.

By July, the concert was cancelled because of covid.  It was re-booked for August 2021.

Even though we've had our vaccinations, I was reluctant to go.  So many people packed together so closely seemed like a recipe for viral disaster.  A few weeks ago, I asked The Husband to see if he could get a refund, but by the time he got around to checking for a refund, it was too late.  I might not have gone, anyway, if he had not showed me the seating chart; he'd bought tickets on the floor, center stage, just 5 rows back from the stage.  Paid an arm and a leg for them.  

I started hunting N95 masks.  Both my brother and my niece offered two masks from their stash.  As it turned out, we found two in our cabinet that we'd bought for doing yard work but had never used.

The concert was awesome.  I just hope it doesn't kill us.

Rain - August 14, 2021

 

Well, after watering the garden for two days in a row, on the third day, it rained.  Our purple hull pea seeds may be floating down the Mississippi right about now.

I picked tomatoes before work yesterday morning - got about 3 gallons - but I did not peel them after work as I'd planned.  There were a fair amount of tomatoes on the vines that weren't quite ripe enough to suit me, so I left them there to ripen a bit more.  The ones I picked will be okay on the back porch until tomorrow.

The okra is churning out pods like crazy.  I've been wanting to make pickled okra, but I want to find a recipe that will make CRISP pickled okra.  I cut some yesterday morning, intending to pickle it, but a quick internet search did not turn up a recipe that I thought would be crisp.  I did make one jar of "refrigerator" pickled okra, but it might not turn work.  All I did was heat vinegar and water and pour it over raw okra in a jar, with some dill, garlic, and red pepper flakes.  Didn't water bath it or seal it.  After it cooled a bit, I put it in the refrigerator, so what I've got is basically still raw okra in a jar.  It might not be worth eating, but I won't have lost anything but a handful of okra and a little bit of time.

Butternuts, Watermelons - August 13, 2021

 

I spent three hours working in the garden yesterday.  While the sprinkler was running on the purple hull pea rows, I tackled the grass around the butternut squash and the lone watermelon.  Both the butternuts and the watermelon have tiny fruit on them.  I hope they make it to maturity before the frost comes.

We have some bodacious grass in the garden.  The cardboard and pine straw we put down have done a pretty good job of cutting down on weeding chores, but there's still a lot of grass in the un-mulched areas.  I pulled up two big wagon-loads of grass yesterday, and that was just on the one row where the squash and watermelon are planted.

There are a lot of ripe tomatoes that need to be picked.  I was too tired to mess with them yesterday.  As I was finishing up in the garden, Nanny came outside, and I asked her if she wanted to can the tomatoes.  She seemed reluctant, although she'd told me earlier in the week that she'd like to have more canned tomatoes.  It seems she has other things she needs to do.  She eventually said she might have time to can them tomorrow.  I am going to pick them this morning before I go to work, and scald and peel them when I get home.  That's half of the canning job.  I'll see if she wants the peeled tomatoes, and if she doesn't, I guess I'll be canning them tomorrow.

Garden dry, Squash bugs back - August 12, 2021

 

When I went to the garden yesterday afternoon, I did not intend to stay there for three hours.  The plan was to just look to see if the purple hull pea seeds had sprouted.  If they had not sprouted, the plan was to come back the next day and turn the sprinkler on them.

They had not sprouted.  The soil, which had been thoroughly tilled the past weekend, was dry as a bone.

I turned around to leave the garden, and as I passed by the zucchini and squash, I noticed that they needed picking.  As I started to pick, I saw squash bugs copulating on the stems.  This could not be allowed to continue.  Since there was a sprayer of bug juice already mixed up in the shed, I decided to go ahead and give the bugs a dose.  There were also lots of squash bug eggs on the leaves.  They had to be smashed.

And there was a lot of grass that needed to be pulled up around the butternut squash.  

I figured that I might as well go ahead and start the sprinkler on the peas while I dealt with the squash bugs.

Long story short (if it's not already too late), I ended up watering the pea rows, picking and spraying the squash, cutting the okra, picking the cherry tomatoes, and pulling grass.  It was almost dark when I left the garden, muddy and sopping wet from trying to move the sprinkler while it was sprinkling. 

I need to go back today and do more watering.  

Gnats - August 11, 2021

 

My house is full of gnats.

They're driving me nuts.  They try to fly up my nose.  God only knows what they do while I'm sleeping.

Where do these things come from???  Are they hatching out of the vegetables I'm bringing from the garden?  If so, how many gnat-lings am I eating without knowing it?

Over the years, I have tried all sorts of tricks to catch them.  Since reading that they'll drown themselves in a bowl of apple cider vinegar, I've tried all sorts of vinegar in a bowl in an attempt to lure them in.  Most of the time I find them crawling around the rim of the bowl.  I guess they're huffing the fumes.  But they're not drowning.

After years of seeing them hover around my kefir jar (I keep it covered, of course, so they can't get in), it finally occurred to me to try drowning them in kefir.  I poured a shot into a half-pint jar and set it near the sink, where a fluorescent light burns 24/7.  Before I went to bed, I checked the jar.  There was a gnat in it - IN IT, not ON it.  He was fluttering weakly.  HAH!  GOT HIM!  I picked up the jar and gave the contents a little swirl to sink him good, and set the jar back in its place.

This morning, there were multiple dead gnats in the kefir - far more than I ever dreamed were even in the house - and several more live ones crawling around inside the jar.  Last night's swirl to drown the first gnat was a mistake, for the kefir had coated the inside of the jar and the gnats didn't have to get in the liquid to enjoy it.  

I clamped my hand over the jar to trap the live ones and gave the jar a few hard shakes to coat the live gnats, then I poured the kefir down the drain and turned on the hot water to scald the ones that might have survived.  

One or two of the gnats managed to get away before I could get my hand over the jar, but there's a fresh jar of kefir waiting for them on the kitchen sink.  

I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at my desk to read the news.  Thank goodness I'd put half-n-half in the coffee, for when I picked up my cup to take a sip, there was a gnat swimming in it.  I fished him out and moved on.

Planted Peas, Fertilized and Watered Butterbeans - August 8, 2021

 

The Grandson spent the weekend with us.  Sweet baby boy is 6'1", wears a size 11 shoe.  I woke up two hours before he did this morning.  He was still in bed when I finished cooking breakfast, but the minute I said to The Husband, "Breakfast is ready," The Grandson was in the kitchen.

We'd no sooner come home from taking The Grandson shopping for school supplies yesterday than Granddaughter #1 called, wanting to know if I'd take her shopping for school supplies.  After breakfast, I went to get her, and we went shopping while The Husband took The Grandson out to let him practice his driving skills in the Wrangler.  

When we all came home, The Husband and I got back in our vehicles.  He took The Grandson home then met me at the auto body shop to drop off my car to have the dent fixed where the tree limb rear-ended me.  ;)

When we got back home from that trip, The Husband mowed the yard while I planted 4 rows of purple hull peas.  He finished the yard in time to help me put the cardboard back down between the rows, then we watered (and fertilized) the butterbeans.  While I was doing the watering, he picked vegetables.  

I came home, showered, and made zucchini-raisin muffins and a loaf of zucchini cheese bread.

That's enough work for today!

Goodbye Cucumbers, Goodbye Peas - August 7, 2021

 We picked every purple hull pea that was on the vines, mature or not.  Then we took up the cardboard carpet, pulled up the vines, mowed down the grass, and tractor-tilled the rows where the peas had been.  Tomorrow, I'm going to re-plant the peas.

We also pulled up the cucumber vines.  The Nephew came out while I was doing it and said, "Are they done?"  I said, "I don't know, but I'M done."  We picked the cucumbers off the vines as we pulled them up.  They were mostly nubby things, so I do think the plants really were done, after all.

I cut a bunch of okra, shared some with Nanny.  Tomorrow, we'll have okra & tomatoes for supper.  Later this week, when the plants make more, I intend to pickle some okra.

The butterbeans are just now beginning to bloom.  They need to be fed and watered.  Tomorrow, if I can get around to it.  

It's getting close to time to start thinning out the tomato plants.  The Defiant tomatoes have very few tomatoes left on them, and I doubt they'll make more.  The San Marzano tomatoes - well, I haven't been at all impressed with them.  They won't grow in my garden next year.  They seem more prone to disease than anything else in the garden.  

We still have a dozen or so of the indeterminate tomatoes, and they are still producing enough for us to have sandwiches, etc.  I guess they'll make fruit until frost.

I want to plant some fall garden vegetables.  I have all the seeds I need.  Maybe I'll get busy sprouting some seedlings this week.

 

There are weeks when I go to work, come home; go to work, come home; go to work, come home.

Then there was this week.

Last Friday night, we went to watch Granddaughter #1's high school band perform the half-time show they'd been working on for the prior three weeks.  It was HOT, even at 7 p.m.  Though the stadium was crowded, we found seats directly behind our son and his family.  I kissed Granddaughter #'s 2 and 3 on their heads, then reached for 6-month-old Granddaughter #4.  I had not seen these little ladies in more than a week because I'd had a sinus infection and hadn't wanted to expose them to my germs.  When I took the baby, she looked at me with terror in her eyes, puckered up, and started to wail.  Heartbroken, I passed her back to her mama in a hurry.  It was the first time she'd ever seemed afraid of me.  

Early this week, I went by to visit this rotten little baby, thinking she wouldn't be afraid of me in her home environment.  She was in her 7-year-old sister's lap, sucking on a bottle, half asleep.  When she heard my voice, her eyes flew open, and she sat up and gave me a wary look.  I sat down beside her and talked to her, and after a few minutes, I took her into my lap.  She puckered up again, but I kept playing with her, and it didn't take long for her to decide that I was okay.  Later, I laid her down on her tummy to see if she could crawl.  Instead of crawling, the raised herself up on her elbow and sat straight up.  It was the first time she'd accomplished that feat.  Her mom and sisters were all surprised by the maneuver, and they clapped and cried, "YAY!"  The baby just  looked at them, puzzled, like, "What?"

The next night was Granddaughter #2's birthday.  We picked up Nanny and went over for birthday cake and presents.  The little rotten baby recognized me this time, and gave me a big toothless grin as soon as I spoke to her.

Last night, the youngest three girls came over to our house while their parents ran errands.  Late in the evening, when the little rotten baby got fussy, I gave her a tour of my house.  In each new room, she looked around like she was expecting a monster to jump out of a closet.  I took her in my bathroom, and when she saw us in the mirror, she twisted around to look me in the face, then looked back to the mirror again.  She did this over and over.  How I wished I could've heard her thoughts!

* * * * * * * * 

Tuesday evening we picked vegetables in the garden.  Got a pretty good haul.  Nanny wanted the tomatoes, peppers, purple hull peas, and some of the cucumbers.  The Husband took the remaining cucumbers, the okra, and the green beans to give away at work.  I made plans in my head to go back to the garden the next day to pull up the peas, clean up the rows, and re-plant the peas.  That was before I remembered the birthday party.  The plan switched to Thursday evening.  That was before last night's unexpected babysitting.  The plan has now switched to this evening.  We'll see what happens.

Yesterday morning, I had to leave for work a little earlier than usual, as I was scheduled to work in a distant county.  I backed out of the driveway, started forward, and immediately realized something was wrong.  My car had a flat tire.  Fortunately, my old Wrangler was available to drive to work.  It hadn't been cranked for weeks.  It was parked in front of The Husband's truck.  The Husband was in the shower, so I had to run inside, grab all the necessary keys, and do a vehicle ballet in the driveway to get to the Wrangler.   On the first couple of crank attempts, I feared that the battery was too weak to start the engine.  I was yelling at it, "No, no, NOOOO!"  Finally, it started.  As soon as I got on the road, the gas light came on.  GEEZ!  It looked like there might be enough gas to make it to town, so I kept going.  What a way to start the day, eh?

Today, "if the Good Lord is willing and the Creeks don't rise" (as they say in these parts) [see footnote 1], I'll be going to the garden after work to pull up the peas.  I'll have to remove all the cardboard that currently carpets the middles so that I can clean up the rows.  I'll put the cardboard down again as soon as the pea seeds are in the ground.  This may take more than one evening.  

Tomorrow, it's supposed to get hot again.  I've promised to take The Grandson shopping for school supplies in the morning.  Maybe I can enlist his help in the garden if it doesn't rain.

* * * * * * * * 

[1]  While visiting "Constitution Village" in Huntsville, Alabama, a few years ago, I learned that, contrary to my former belief, the phrase "if the Creeks don't rise" has nothing to do with floods.  It referred to the Creek tribe of Alabama.  :)

Groundhog Day - August 1, 2021

 I spent the first half of yesterday canning tomatoes.  Got 4 quarts, plus enough left-overs to make a batch of macaroni & tomatoes for tonight's supper.  I think this makes about 14 quarts of tomatoes in the pantry.  That ought to be enough for a winter's worth of chili, soup, etc.  

The sill on one side of the back porch is still lined with tomatoes that weren't quite ripe enough to can.  Nanny still wants to can more tomatoes, so I'll take these to her when they're ready.

* * * * * * * * 

It was SO HOT yesterday.  When the canning was done, I attempted to pull some weeds from the flower bed at the back of the house, but that didn't last long.  I'd learned from a Facebook gardening group that one of the weeds in the flower bed is pigweed, and when I went outside to compare it with a picture in the post, I discovered that it was blooming.  A farmer had told me last year that pigweed is invasive and almost impossible to kill with herbicides.  It had to go.  I pulled up all I could find in that one bed and stuffed it in the garbage can.  There may be more of it in other beds, but the sun was beating down so hot on my back that I gave up after cleaning out the one bed.

As I was cooling off under a fan on the back porch, The Husband came out.  Almost immediately, I heard him give a little gasp and say, "Groundhog!"  

I jumped up from my chair and said, "Where?!" but the groundhog - if that's what it was - had already disappeared down the gulley.  

A few years ago, the gulley started caving off, eating up our back yard.  We spent a good bit of money having a dirt/concrete fill brought in to stop the erosion.  The thought of animals burrowing into that fill puts me on edge.  I said, "It's probably got a burrow in the gulley.  We've got to get rid of it.  You've got to kill it."  

The Husband said, "Maybe we can trap it and haul it off."

Thus began the Groundhog Quest.

The Husband did a little research and discovered that groundhogs are vegetarians, so he decided to bait the live trap.  We set it up in the area where he'd seen the beast, and baited it with tomatoes and watermelon.  We also set up the trail camera to capture the capture on film.

And we waited.

Off and on all evening, The Husband checked his phone, which can receive live feeds from the trail cam.  Nothing.

About 10 p.m., we went out to the porch for one last trap-check before we went to bed.  The Husband picked up a spotlight that we keep handy for wildlife viewing at night.  He shined it on the trap.  

A possum was in it.

I didn't want to "off" the possum; they're said to eat a lot of ticks.  So we decided to turn it loose.

Un-trapping a possum is way harder than trapping one.  When we finally got the trap open (by pushing down on the mechanism with a sturdy stick), the possum would not come out.  I picked up the end of the cage and tried to dump him out, but he clung to the wires and would not let go.  Finally, he turned in the right direction and scampered out of the cage and over the hill.

The trail cam did not catch the possum being trapped, but it did catch us trying to un-trap him.  

I'm not showing you that.  :)