Last Thursday I reached the end of my tether and went straight out after work and cleaned out the small coop. I ran the power out and set up a nice fluffy layer of shavings. At 5:30 the next morning, I was hooking up the light, putting out water and food, and trotting the Nuggets out in the cat carrier. I then trotted back in, had a nice latte and wallowed in the chick-less-ness of my laundry room.
Saturday was supposed to rain all day, but we were in luck and it didn't start until 3:15. I gave myself a pep talk, had three large lattes, and threw myself into action! That break from the downpours let me run to the food pantry, pick up feed, go to the post office and library, and make it back to tackle the raised beds. I got five beds rough-hoed, three of those ready for planting, put the hoops up over my (please god) pepper and eggplant bed, adjusted the framework over the blueberry and currant bushes, and made it in before it poured. And boy, did it! I think we must have gotten well over 5 inches of rain since mid-April. It's crazy. And cold. I also muscled my Meyers Lemon tree out onto the deck (where the pergola has not been built, sigh), with fervent apologies. It is not supposed to drop to frost levels, but it did get down to 38*. I'm keeping a close eye on it. I need to get the giant fig tree out, but that is a two-person job. Maybe three. Everything deck-wise is hinging on the building of the pergola. But, until we get some dry weather, that's not happening.
|All the powdered sugar sank into the buttery |
|Isn't she something? And at 93!|