Garden Thoughts

It’s almost impossible to keep track of the days anymore; they run together in a continuous thread of sameness.  I rarely leave the ranch — a weekly pick-up at a local farm for produce, a bi-weekly run to the grocery store for staples, maybe a monthly stop at the nursery or irrigation shop, and that’s it.

This rose bush was here when we moved in, and it really struggled.  I’ve been pruning out the old wood each year and it has become vigorous, prolific and fills the air with its wonderful fragrance.

When I was working, I put over 30,000 miles on my car each year.  Now, I’m lucky if I drive it once a month.  

Simplicity roses form a beautiful hedge along the front of the garden fence.

We have two baskets of masks in the mud room.  One for clean, and one for used.  We carry a bottle of Lysol and a rag with us in the car.  

I’m going to have a lot of cherries this year, if the birds don’t take them all.

I haven’t had a haircut since March 3rd.  Pretty soon, I’ll be able to put it in a pony tail.

My favorite iris.  No, I don’t remember the name of the variety.  

I have strange dreams at night; dreams of a garden with a patchwork of safe garden beds.  Gradually, over the course of the dream, the safe garden beds shrink and disappear and just the deadly ones are left.  

I like companion planting and interspersing flowers with vegetables. This is my tomato bed.  Or is it my poppy bed?  Having flowers scattered around means that there are lots of bees and butterflies  to pollinate everything.

I know we have to get people back to work.  We need to find our way to a new way of living with this virus.  But, I’m scared of going too fast.  I see people flooding local bars and business without masks and no distancing.  I see photos of people with snarling mouths and glaring eyes, demanding the removal of all restrictions.  And I feel threatened.  

Figs

So, I garden and bake and paint.  During the day, I focus on my life here on the ranch and try to ignore the rest.  And then, at night, I dream.

Sugar snap peas, lettuce and chard.

How are you doing?

I’m propagating some big leaf maple trees — one of our favorite trees.

Sage Gets it Done

We have a morning routine and Sage knows it well.  Brett is wide awake the second the bedroom goes from dark to barely grey.  Me, I wake slowly.  So, while Brett is up and letting the dogs out and putting together the horses’ vitamin buckets, I stretch lazily in bed and think about my day.  After 20 minutes or so, I am up as well.  One of the joys of retirement is that I don’t have to stumble out of bed, half-awake, and head off to work — getting coffee half-way there, when I am waking up.  I savor those 20 minutes of leisurely rising.

While I am easing into the morning, Sage follows Brett around while he feeds the horses.  About the time Brett starts cleaning the first pasture, I am outside.  Sage is waiting for me on the porch and stays at my side while I muck the long pasture and then check on the garden.  

Then I head into the house for breakfast and Sage heads off, with Kersey, to find squirrels. 

The other morning I was at the far end of the long pasture with Sage by my side and Brett was finishing up in the front pasture.  He called Sage — which is highly unusual.  I wondered why.  Sage glanced at me quickly and then she was off; 

all the way down the pasture to the gate 

where there is an opening for her to exit, 

across the bridge, 

past the chicken run, 

skidded around the corner, continued past the pasture and the barn, reaching Brett between the round pen and the agility arena.  

Next, I saw Bear walking down the pathway between the goat area and the agility arena.  He was on the wrong side of the fence and his goat buddies were watching enviously...until Sage arrived.  Bear had slipped out of the pasture behind Brett when he pulled the muck cart out and had ignored Brett’s efforts to get him to go back inside.  Sage went to work.  She leapt around Bear, barking and crouching and wagging her tail like mad.  Bear tried to head-butt her and then gave up.  Brett opened the pasture gate and Sage herded Bear into the pasture.  

Maybe I’ll enroll Sage in a herding class when she finishes obedience training.  Something tells me she would enjoy it.