Weeds

I gots 'em.  I braved crossing to the garden this afternoon to evict the weeds between the bales and hack back the mint that was completely covering the herbs and bale-side onions.  Vegetation takes up a lot of room in a garbage bag, especially when you're yanking out 20" tall mint stalks.  We aren't even going to discuss the underground runners that I pulled out.  This photo still makes it look weedy but I cut the mint down and some of that is thyme and parsley but it's better.  I'll fine tune it another day.

 

Between the second and third row of bales there was a healthy patch of whatever this is.  It grows in the garden every year and it's pretty easy to pull out.  It kind of looks like grass, it isn't bad looking, but it's a weed so it must go.






I was happy to see the yellow patty pan squash has gotten to be walnut-size,

 

there's a cluster of tiny green Sweet 100 tomatoes,





 
 


and there are pale purple flowers on all of the potato plants.










This afternoon I finished the second Fair Leaf washcloth so now I have the required pair to enter.  I really like the colors of this yarn.




You wouldn't believe the size of some of the rhubarb leaves.  Look!  Crazy.





It was rainy this morning and when I went out to plug in the fountain I noticed raindrops sitting like pearls on the blue-green leaves of the bleeding hearts.






06 July--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon. 

Somewhere a bell rang.  I felt like I was swimming up through thick black water, trying to find the sound that pulled me from sleep.  My hand reluctantly poked out of the toasty depths of my bed and groped blindly for the phone.  “Hello?” I said, sounding, I’m sure, like I had a mouth full of cotton.

            “Mom?  Mom, wake up.”

            I fought my way to the surface of consciousness and out of my tangle of sheets and quilts.  “Aaron?  What are doing calling me at… four o’clock in the morning?  Is everything okay?”

            “I want to introduce you to Elizabeth.”

            Elizabeth? I thought, battling the cobwebs in my brain.  I don’t know anyone by that name.  “Aaron, who is Elizabeth and why couldn’t she wait until daylight to meet me?”

            A warm chuckle came down the wire.  “She’s your new granddaughter, Elizabeth Gail Logan.  Say hello to your grandma, little one.”  I could hear the rasp of the phone on cloth and faint breathing.  “Sorry, Mom, guess she’s not up for phone conversations yet.”

            “Oh, Aaron, she’s really a girl?  We have a girl.  I’m so happy for you and Sara.  How is she?”  I reached to turn on the bedside lamp and check the date on my clock.  “Wait, isn’t this early?”   

            “Yep, nearly two weeks.  Ol’ Elizabeth here was evidently anxious to appear before Christmas.  We had an exciting ride to the hospital in the snowstorm around eleven last night and she popped out just after midnight.  This is a girl in a hurry.  Everything’s fine.  Mama’s fine, Elizabeth’s fine, and Daddy will eventually recover from all the excitement.”

            I felt warm inside imagining that little bundle of pink.  I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her.  Pink!  After three sons of my own and five grandsons I didn’t have any girl baby clothes.  Time to shop.  And get the parish knitters and quilters working overtime.  “Aaron, what did you do with David?”

            “I scooped him up out of bed, blankets and all, and hauled him over to Bob and Julia’s next door.  He didn’t even wake up when the snowflakes hit his face.  I want to be home when he wakes up.”  I could hear a voice murmur something.  “Mom, Sara wants to talk to you.  Here.”

            “Gail?  I made you a girl this time.”

            “You sure did, honey.  How are you feeling?”

            “Good.  Happy.  Tired.”

            “I’ll bet.  So tell me about Elizabeth Gail.  I’m so thrilled you gave her my name.”

              “Aaron and I knew how excited you were about the possibility of a girl; we agreed her middle name should be yours.”  Sara grunted and I heard the bedclothes rustle.  “Your granddaughter was in such a hurry to be born my bottom doesn’t feel too sore.  Anyway, she’s six pounds fourteen ounces and twenty-two inches long--a real string bean.  That helped her slide out pretty easy too.”

            “Sara!  Don’t you be calling my granddaughter a string bean.  Have a little respect for the newest female in the Logan family.  So, how long does the doctor expect to keep you in the hospital?”

            “He told me in the delivery room I could go home later today, but I think I’m going to stay overnight until tomorrow afternoon.  Just to make sure everything’s okay with Elizabeth.”

            “That sounds like a good plan.  It’ll give me time to get packed and get out there.  You still want me to come lend a hand for a few days, don’t you?”  I was embarrassed to hear the note of uncertainty in my voice.

            “Gail, of course we want you to come.  I’m going to need to rest and get accustomed to the new baby; David will be a little lonely and having you here will help make him feel better about sharing Mama and Dad.”  I could hear a faint mewing like a hungry kitten.  “Your granddaughter is requesting breakfast, Gail.  Got to go.  I’ll see you when you get here.  Here’s Aaron.”  As she handed the phone to her husband, I heard her say, “Make sure your mom takes her time on the snowy roads.”

            “Mom?  We want you to come but be careful driving out here.”

            “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll be careful.  I’m going to wait until about nine to start out to give the plows and sanders time to clear the highways.  I’ve got my cell phone all charged up and will be sure to call if I get delayed.”

            “Good, we don’t want anything to happen to you.”

            “Don’t you worry.  Now kiss my daughter-in-law for me and tell her I love her.  I love you too.  I’ll see you after lunch.”

            “Bye, Mom.  I love you.  See you later.”

            We hung up.  I hugged the thought of my new baby granddaughter close.  Too excited to go back to sleep, I slid my feet into my red fuzzy slippers, put on my old plaid wool robe and went to put on a pot of tea.  While it steeped, I climbed upstairs and pulled out my mom’s old bridal trunk.  It still had a wonderful cedar smell when I opened it.  Deep inside, wrapped in tissue, was a quilt she’d made when I was first married and pregnant with Sam.  Hoping for a girl, she’d embroidered lambs and butterflies on the blocks and trimmed and backed it with tiny pink gingham checks.  After more than thirty years there was finally going to be a Logan baby girl sleeping under it.  The quilt looked as beautiful as it had the day Mom finished it.  I carried it downstairs and draped it over a kitchen chair to air out.  I watched the sun rise on the first morning of Elizabeth’s life.  What exciting days she had before her.

With the rainy morning my walk got delayed and then forgotten.  I'll do better tomorrow.
--Barbara