|Dewy web on the cucumber trellis.|
Last summer was supposed to be "finish your novel" summer, but my father-in-law fell ill and I had two gardens to tend (his and mine) rather than one. So much for the novel.
|A doe and fawn surprised me one hot day!|
Given that my ancient tractor must tackle this task in Low-4, you can understand why I'm not through yet. And I feel like I should get the "ground work" at least in measurable progress before I start setting fence posts and stringing wire. Wise Farmer Jimmy advised me that his best stands of bermuda grass were sown in mid-May, so I guess I'll be waiting another year before starting our tiny cattle venture.
|This could have been called "canning summer."|
So, the "undone" list is endless. But I have managed to do a few good things. I've ignored "preventative maintenance" on this body of mine and, at 55, it's beginning to catch up with me. If I feel like I've spent the summer with doctors, I have, but that's just because I neglected it before. Hopefully, I'll keep on track.
I've made some decisions about next year's garden, and about our primary cash crop. More on that later.
Jim has spent well over a month creating an entirely new look for our festival booth. It's custom-made, it's unique, and I think it will show off his jewelry creations beautifully. I cannot wait for you to see it.
But that's not this summer's theme. While could call this a "canning" summer, because I have canned a lot of tomatoes this year, that is not how I'll remember this summer.
|My cousin's meadow on a misty morn.|
Deliciously cool, hazy, heavy with crystal-clear dewdrops.
I could have slept through them.
I wanted to sleep through them.
But, somehow, I made sure to see as many as I could.
May each of your mornings begin with beauty.
How are you living your Savory life?