Rolling thunder woke me
today. One old story reads, “the giants are bowling,” and I'm thinking,
“Wow, a strike! And then, one by one, the lanes all along the vast
heavens have a score so that the rumbling continues on for a great span
over the land. Each sound is farther away and more muffled. There must
be a lady giant with a huge camera, flashing shots of her man clunking
bowling balls down, right before it scoots toward its crashing
destination into the pins. Rain drop beat against my window like so many
tiny fists frustrated because they cannot come into the house.
While I walked the grounds
yesterday, I saw one place where the water has been rushing through. It
was easy to see the unruly, determined childlike thing had found a place
to have its way here at the break of this hill. I'm just as busy in my
mind trying to think of a way to thwart its attempts to hurriedly join its
friends in their travels down to greater tributaries.
This is only an acre but
for each inch there is an opportunity to bring some blessing to the
ground, air and general landscape. Two years have gone by since I put the
flower bed across that particular area. Maybe I just haven't been
aggressive enough to slow the run off as much as I would like to see. At
any rate, this is where I plan to put my garden this year. Farther down
and a little closer to the house is where I want to plant another row of
The winter onions have
“wintered over,” and they are a rich, dark green; a sight to behold.
I've been cutting the tops off those for soups, salads, green onion
gravey and whatever else. Not only are they beautiful but delicious as
well. Last night we had them sprinkled into tacos. Today I plan to put a
couple cups of cottage cheese along with green onions in the blender. You
cannot beat this for a great dip.
The mint bed I'm moving to
one edge of that flower bed where the water is washing. Let it try to
uproot that wiry, tough little plant. I believe it was Gertrude with the
homesteading group who told me this.