Weeds, Begone!

That was yesterday's theme.  My knitting friend, MW, came over around 1 o'clock and he and I went out and weeded.  I took the blueberries because I could sit on my little gardening stool and work so I didn't strain my ankle.  He raked all the straw off the new grass and then tackled the weeds that had taken over the milkweed and lilies garden.  It was a glorious day, a perfect day to be outside in the sun and shade getting your hands dirty.  I need to call around to find some milkweed plants and maybe some new lilies to fill in because I love lilies and we need to have something so the Monarch butterflies come visit.







Even in all the weeds and without their annual dose of fertilizer the blueberry bushes are making berries.  Not very many but some.  I'm thrilled.  I'll check the handouts from the "Blueberry Growing" class I took a few years back from the county plant guy and give them a nice dose of plant food this week.  Probably tomorrow.



There are a few buds on the honeysuckle.  Durwood needs to make fresh birdie juice today and I want to go to Stein's for a couple tomato plants, some tomato cages, some parsley, and maybe a mint plant or two.  Hm, maybe they have milkweed plants too...  That'd be good, one stop shopping is always good.

I get to see the bone doc today and I'm hoping to get promoted to using a cane but I suspect I'll be using my walker for another month.  It feels pretty good most of the time but gets tired easily.  I guess that's to be expected with my advanced age (grrr) and the severity of my injury.


After weeding (because, of course, I wasn't quite as careful with my ankle as I should have been) and showering, I propped myself up on the couch with an ice pack and worked on the Autumn Cumulus sock.  I got the bottom of the foot scallop finished and picked up the stitches and knit a couple rows on the top of the foot scallop.  I'm very impressed with the engineering of this sock and the way it's looking and I love the colors.

June 6--Bette S. Garber, Highway Images.  The rocks looked red in the late day sun.  Tilda flipped down the visor of her ten year old SUV and twirled the radio knob hoping for more than the curious blend of cowboy music, static, and Jesus she'd been getting ever since she left Buffalo, WY early that day.  She thought Wyoming was some of the prettiest country she'd ever seen but it was empty.  So empty that she found herself longing to see some of the free-range cattle the road signs had been warning her about for the last hundred miles.  One thing was for sure, if Calvin was following her she'd know it because there weren't any other vehicles around and she was staying off I-90.  Right now she had just crossed Crazy Woman Creek on Wyoming State Highway 47 1/2, which had to be the threshold of the official Back of Beyond if ever there was one.  She saw movement in a field off to her left and glanced over to see a herd of black cattle grazing the sparse grass and sagebrush.  Cows out west looked very different from the dairy herds back home.  Wisconsin cows looked friendly, like they'd invite you over for coffee and a chat while the beef cattle around there looked like tough street gangs that would trample you if you got too close.

Well, lookie there.  A piece of story popped out of my pencil last night.  I was just as surprised as I guess you are since it's been poem after poem for over two months now.  This must be what they mean when they talk about "going with the flow."  Like I said, I get to see the doc this morning and then I'm having supper with a couple of the old Tae Kwon Do ladies.  Well, not old old, although I suppose we're creeping up on old, but it's been a lot of years, at least 20 since we worked out together.  It'll be good to catch up with their doings and share mine.
--Barbara