We have had a busy but wonderful week. Our son Harold and his wife Clarissa came for a long over due visit. Since our time with them is so precious I put the blog on hold. Our daughter-in-law is due to have our first grandchild ( a boy ) at the end of October. We made a quick trip to Delaware to visit grandparents and extended family. When Harold and Clarissa left, their PT Cruiser was loaded down with baby gifts, and they still have to go to Virginia Beach to visit her family. I would suggest they rent a U-haul to get everything back to Texas. Either that or tie their Border Collie to hood of the car. Pothole Farm is in full bloom.
The grape vines are taking off, the holly hocks are flowering and the garden is lush. We picked our first squash and zucchini. They were quite tasty skewered between tender beef, red onions, and colorful peppers basted with Harold’s Teriyaki sauce and grilled. Mmmm, mouthwatering. Before long the garden will be filled with ripe vegetables and the harvest will begin. I am not sure I will be able to keep up. We were sorry to see Harold and Clarissa go, but it is what we as parents strive to achieve. Like birds we nurture them, watch as they stretch and exercise their fledgling wings, teetering on the nest edge and finally taking flight to a life of their own. I think we did well, but it’s nice when they come back and visit the old home nest.
ZAPPED! My sister came back with me from Delaware. She was ready for a little of the peace and quiet of Pothole Farm. A few lazy days sitting on the porch swing sipping iced tea and reading a magazine, or a nice stroll down the country road, maybe pick a few berries or look for turkey feathers. As soon as we arrived she wanted to see all the improvements we have made. I took her for a tour around the property, proudly pointing out our new chicken house, garage and soon to be completed root cellar. Our last stop was the garden.
As you know we have a solar electric wire that runs across the top of the fence and even above the gate. She did fine entering the garden and I didn’t think to mention that you need to watch your head as you pass under the electric wire. We walked up and down the rows admiring the plants and counting the nubs of future squash and zucchini. We twined the wild vines of Lima beans around the fence wires and marveled at the growth of the sweet potatoes and pumpkins. It all met her approval as she strutted in a queenly fashion ahead of me as all older sisters do. She opened the gate and started to walk through. I heard a sound that I can only describe as a the sizzle and snap of a piece of battered chicken being dropped into hot oil. She stood there stunned, looking at me with dime sized pupils. Oh, I said sheepishly, I forgot to mention the electric wire. We laughed hysterically. At least we know it works. Maybe that will knock some sense into her. Oh, and the lazy days sitting on the swing sipping tea? Not happening. There’s work to do on Pothole Farm.