Covid Journal, Day 254: Christmas Lights and Flowers

36 this morning, with a heavy frost. A nice day, 60 degrees by afternoon. Sunny, but clouds arrived in the late afternoon, and rain is expected tonight.

Since bad weather--including the possibility of snow--is in the forecast for the next few days, we decided to go ahead and get the Christmas lights up, and the rest of the decorations inside. I can work on those this week while it "weathers" outside.

The calendulas are still in bloom, surprisingly, so I picked most of them and brought them in to make bouquets. I also picked some chamomile and some parsley, both of which are thriving right now. I expect the cold this week will change all that.

It was so odd to pick flowers while putting up Christmas lights. I cannot remember ever doing that before. I mean, December is just around the corner! I guess it's just another oddness of this very odd year. 

The lights do look odd from this angle! I'll have to get a better photo tomorrow.

This little plastic house is one of my favorite decorations. I think it's from the 50's or thereabouts.

We got most of the lights up; over the years we've simplified what we do so it's a lot easier than the days when we'd outline the whole roof with lights. I like it just as well. It's cheering to see the place all lit up, and I am looking forward to doing the decorating in the house too. I think, though, I'll be downsizing it a bit. I mean, 6 totes of decorations! Rather a lot for this small house.

Another odd thing for this year: seed catalogs arriving in November. Usually it was just at Christmas when they came in the mail, but I've had 3 or 4 already. And a friend said that when she went to order some things were already sold out. So I will be getting my orders in soon. With so many people back into gardening, it's making things a bit more competitive. My son tried to find jar lids for the apple butter last week and had no luck at all. Fortunately I'm still pretty well stocked up. But the half-pint jars are scarce as hen's teeth. I was looking for some to make a few things for Christmas gifts, and ended up getting them on Amazon, and they were not cheap.

So here I am, still picking flowers and with a few tomatoes still ripening on the windowsill and a few of our little pear tomatoes in a bowl, and looking at seed catalogs for next year. Can this year get any stranger? Wait...don't answer that.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Covid Journal, Day 190: Garden Time

The days have been so similar all week they blur into each other. Generally around 59 in the mornings, warming into the 70's, with a mix of cloud and sun. No rain for over 2 weeks, and everything is so dry.

So today I finally got a chance to actually get into the garden. You'd think with all the canning and so forth that I've been doing that I'd have been out there daily, but no. I spend mornings getting the house in order and taking care of ebay, then afternoons canning. That's been my life, or so it seems, for most of this month. We have had some breaks, of course. This past week I spent a lot of time on furniture projects, getting things ready for our booths. And Larry worked on brush-hogging and replacing the roof on an old shed with tin that's probably way older than the shed, but still serviceable.

But back to the garden. For this late in the season, we are still harvesting a lot of different vegetables. Tomatoes, squash, a few cucumbers from the new vines--although the vines are not doing very well, and look like they might have some sort of blight. We're also getting some melons, many peppers, 

and kale and radishes. 

The late cabbage is about ready for harvest, and Larry picked corn from our last planting, which we put in about the first week of August. Today I canned the last of the late green beans, which gave us three good pickings and about 20 quarts of canned beans plus plenty to eat.

The garden looks ragged but even though it's not pretty, it's still doing well. Turnips--which I thought was the lettuce I'd planted, are growing well, 

and there are some tiny beet plants that need rain to get growing. No lettuce. I guess this dry weather did in my little seedlings, but I do have these plants below, given to me by a friend, that are looking good, so I'm hopeful. If the deer don't get them. Last night they ate my live-forever, almost all it of it, some begonias and even a rosemary plant that was right by the front steps. Nervy, I'll say that for them. I think I'll put a net over them tomorrow. 

Most of the tomato plants have blight but they're hanging on. We did pull a few that were too far gone. 

There is one tomato plant, a volunteer, that is just amazing. It came up in the onion row, and we left it to grow there. Then when we pulled the onions and planted beans, we still left the tomato in place. Now it is producing tomatoes like crazy, with very little sign of blight. I have one of its fruits set aside, and will be saving those seeds. And we're thinking that maybe we should plant tomatoes in amongst the beans next year.

The original zucchini plants are still bearing and the plant looks fairly healthy. We only planted one hill of zucchini but it's done very well. 

The second planting of yellow squash is producing now, as is the second planting of kale. Larry fed the earlier kale to the chickens. They love it.

The late broccoli looks good, and I am hoping it starts to head soon. We'll cut the late cabbage this week and make a bit more kraut.

My poor leeks did not do well this year. I guess they didn't like their spot. And now the weeds are all around them. I'll clean them up this week, pull the mulch closer, and hope they get a growth spurt this month. There's still time for them to grow.

A couple weeks ago I braved Wal-Mart to get some mums. Some things are just worth the risk you know? The poor petunias were looking ragged, so these freshened things up a bit.

Here I cut back the lilies-of-the-valley, dug some out and mailed them to a friend, and planted more mums. 

We have never had a garden still producing this well so late in the season, and it looks like we'll have some fresh eating for quite a while unless we get a hard freeze. This is the first year we've really kept up with succession planting, and the mulch we put down in the spring has keep the weeds down pretty well and kept the ground moist even in this dry weather. Of course, we're already thinking about next year. What can we do differently/ better? What plant varieties should we plant? Should we get a bigger greenhouse? Definitely be on the lookout for more canning jars. And absolutely buy lids in bulk again. 

I really liked starting our own plants. I used to do it until ten years ago or so, but just got away from it. Seemed like a lot of work when we only needed a few of each kind of plant. But I've missed it, and I honestly think our plants did much better than the "boughten" ones. I've also been saving some flower seeds, and will gather herbs and some other seeds to save too. It's been years since I did that, but it just seems logical and this year I will have time to do it. 

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Covid Journal, Day 185: A Day of Not Doing Much At All

49 again this morning, as it's been for the past several days, and the promise of yet another lovely Fall day. This is the Autumn Equinox, so now it's officially the end of summer, and I hope it stays gone and doesn't come back for an encore. 

The past two days are a blur in my mind, honestly. Sunday was another day in the kitchen, this time putting up Jenn's Chili Sauce--sooo delicious, making chili for Larry and another batch of chocolate zucchini bread substituting yellow squash for the zucchini, and making a big fruit salad from bits and pieces that needed to be used up, including a melon from our garden, the first. 

I'll make more of that chili sauce to give as Christmas gifts, I think. It's something different that most people probably don't make. Thank you, Jenn, for sharing your recipe. The chocolate zucchini bread came out beautifully, even with the yellow squash. I realized that the recipe calls for peeling the squash, but I did not do that either time and the bread was amazing.

Yesterday was booth work at our Marietta, Ohio booth. We made a lot of changes, so it took about 4 hours of hard work on my part, at least. Generally Larry unloads, helps if I need him with moving heavier furniture, then he wanders off until it's time to re-load anything I'm taking home. The arranging and such are not his forte'. 

Here's a few photos of the changes we made:

We've had this table with the "cracked ice" laminate top for a couple years, just waiting for the right chairs to go with it. We finally found the chairs a couple weeks ago. I had the yellow stool in my kitchen, just waiting for a spot in a booth.

We brought in the big mirror and the silverplate tea set and flatware. The washstand has been there a while, and I'm thinking of bringing it home for a different paint. It just doesn't have character, to me. The tricycle was brought in our last time here.

We brought in this old mirror too--it has the neatest old wavy mirror glass in it. Does anyone else think that's cool, or is it just me?

I moved the corner cabinet to a new location--sometimes that helps sell things.

The punch was a new addition yesterday. It's by Hazel Atlas Glass, vintage 40s or 50s. I just love this color combination.

A few other recent additions--aluminum canisters, brass spittoon, a pie basket and crocks.

I thought this breadbox, with its copper slats, was pretty unique.

A crowded corner to be sure. It's a challenge for me to work with just this one booth when we used to have 5 spaces. I've been changing things out every couple months, trying to keep fresh inventory for the regular customers.

Today I was just plain exhausted. I slept in until after 9, a rare, rare thing, and haven't done a lot all day. I've been having that arrhythmia again so made a call to the cardiologist, who came up with a plan to deal with it. Again. Maybe this time we'll get it right. The uneven heartbeat disturbs my sleep, as I often wake up and walk around, drink water, etc, to try to settle it down. So a bad night's sleep on top of a couple busy days just wore me out. I did make bread, though, and it came out nicely. And I put the rest of the last loaf through the food processor to make crumbs, which I put in the freezer for later use.

I also planted some lettuce plants given to me by a friend. I put them into some planters I'd emptied, and I hope we'll get some salads from them. The lettuce seeded in the garden is growing nicely, as are the peas, radishes and late onions. I haven't checked on the beets yet. Fingers crossed that we may get a nice late harvest.

The other thing I did today? I read. A friend recommended On Folly Beach by Karen White, so I ordered it and it came last week. I started it the other evening, and today I finished it. I have to admit, it wasn't the best book I've ever read. My main problem with it is the main character, a young woman who lets others tell her how she  should be handling the death of her soldier husband. And then there's a man who not only tells her how and what she should do, but mansplains everything to her, and seems to think he knows what's best for her--even though he'd just met her. It infuriates me when I read books like this, because surely no woman today is still that weak and submissive? Or maybe there are some, and they enjoy stories like this. The plot was quite good, with a nice mystery involving notes in old books and some WWII history. If only the author had made the heroine, if she can be called that, a stronger personality. 

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Covid Journal, Day 182: Snapping Beans and Remembering When

59 again, cloudy and chilly. I am loving this weather, and it looks like it will be with us for several more days. Larry is watering the new fruit trees, though, so I am sure he'd like to see a good rain.

We put up beans again the other day, nice young Tenderette bush beans, which are my favorite as far as growing and taste. In this area, the white half-runners are queen; they are what almost everyone else grows, followed by Blue Lake. I'm not a fan of either. The half-runners have to be strung, and I don't like the taste of Blue Lake beans. Most people here cook their half-runners almost to a mush, usually adding bacon or ham and maybe onions. They're tasty, but to me seem like all the life and nutrition is cooked out of them. Of course, probably that's true of most canned green beans, but the Tenderettes retain some firmness. Since I don't like frozen beans--and as I said yesterday, they tend to go to waste because I forget about them being in the freezer--then canning is the only option.

So pretty for late beans. We had similar good luck last year with beans planted at the beginning of August.

Well, canning or freezing are not the only options. There's leather britches, which are green beans strung up and dried. I tried them once for Larry's sake, because he had fond memories of them from his childhood. But all I can say is yuck. Maybe I cooked them wrong, but to me if it hadn't been for the hambone and onions I cooked them with, there'd have been no flavor to them at all. And they took a long, long time to cook. Here in this photo, I was soaking them prior to cooking. 

It seems like every time we snap beans--a benefit of Tenderettes, no strings--we start talking about our childhoods, and memories of beans and gardens from those days. For both of us, bean-picking and snapping or stringing was relegated to the children. Both our fathers were the gardeners, our mothers were the preservers and we were the labor in between planting and canning. Back then, pretty much everyone grew half-runners, so the beans always needed to be strung. Half-runners live up to their name: the vines string out, not quite bush beans but not as tall as pole beans. Most people put up string for the beans to climb on but invariably the string would sag, and the beans were a tangle work through. Larry's father also grew pole beans, and I think our Dad might have done that a few times too, but our garden space was limited and pole beans take a lot of space. At one time the garden took up almost all of the back yard, but over the years it shrank in size so we had space to play ball and for Dad to build a little cookout grill from stacked cinderblocks and a grill from an old stove. It worked great.

Dad's cookout grill and the back yard. This picture was taken in 1965, and as you can see the garden, behind Mom, had gotten pretty small by then. That's me standing, and to the left and seated is my English Granny, who must have been visiting. Julie is talking to her, John is drinking from a cup, Joe and Tom are seated behind me, talking to Mom on the chaise, and Cathy is to my right. Mom looks pretty good here for a lady with 13 children.

Dad also built a picnic table, and that is where we would sit to snap beans, there or on the front porch. It seemed a shame to have to spend long summer afternoons at this chore, so there was plenty of grousing and bickering, but a lot of laughter and fun too.  We'd get in trouble with Mom if we left too many strings or missed beans with bad places in them. Back then, most people put up their beans using a water bath canner, boiling the jars for 3 hours. The kitchen would be a steam bath, and the rest of the house felt the effects too. Pressure canners were just coming into use, but Mom, like most other women, didn't trust the new canners and were afraid of them blowing up. A shame, that. They could have avoided hours of heat, but the new canners also cost a good bit so that was another deterrent.

Larry's memories are similar to mine. His father grew large gardens up on a hill, which required water being carried up at planting time. There was usually more than his family could use, and they would share produce with their neighbors. His mother processed her beans a bit differently. She boiled a large  washtub of water over an outside fire. The jars of beans were put in the washtub with towels between them to keep them from breaking, and boiled for hours. Although it might have been more work to set this up, it seems to me a better way than heating up the whole house during processing. But neither method really assured that bacteria would be killed, as some bacteria need higher temperatures than 212 degrees, the temperature of boiling water, to be killed off, no matter how long the jars were boiled.

We're lucky today. We have safer pressure canners, and many of us enjoy air conditioned kitchens. But the picking and snapping processes haven't changed, and just as when we were children, we talk and laugh and "remember when."

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Covid Journal, Day 154: Tomatoes and Peaches

Wonderful 59 degrees this morning, crisp and bright morning.

I was up to my elbows in peaches yesterday. It was a hard day; these were free peaches from a neighbor's tree and had a lot of insect damage, bruising, etc. So much cutting, trimming, and care. Some were cling, which means that the seed does not come away from the pulp easily--meaning more cutting. And they're small. As I cut the peaches up, I dropped the pieces into a pot of water with some lemon juice in it to keep them from turning brown. 

I ended up with 5 quarts, and then took the water I'd put them in, cooked it down, and made it into 5 pints of peach jelly. The water was full of peach juice and bits of pulp and made a pretty jelly. This was water I might have normally tossed out, but this time I was able to use it, given the amount of juiciness in these peaches.

The other thing I've been working on has been fun: dehydrated tomatoes. I've wanted to try this for years, and finally this year I have time to do it. The tray above holds a couple Black Krim slices and the rest are a large pink tomato that puzzles me because I don't remember planting pink tomatoes. It may be from a volunteer plant, as we had several good healthy volunteers this year.

There are about 10 tomatoes of various sizes in this pint jar. I could probably pack it fuller, but this is fine. These are the same as the popular sun-dried tomatoes; I could cover them with olive oil to store them too. I may try that with the batch I'm drying today. This is a great way to use up small amounts of tomatoes--we're getting tomatoes ripening in dribbles, which makes it difficult to make things like pasta sauce, but I can dry a small batch every day.

So back to the kitchen for more peaches. I'm about a third of the way through, so I see a couple more long days ahead of me. Is it worth it? I'm not sure, truthfully. But here are the peaches, and here I am, so that's all there is to it.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Covid Journal, Day 146: Almost Losing Track of the Days

The weather has been pretty consistent this past week: 80's during the day, 60's at night. Fairly humid, but a wonderful break from the 90-degree days of July.

I do love August. Mornings stay cool almost right up to noon, and after 5 in the evening the heat begins leaving quickly so we can enjoy being outside. I guess the only downside is insects. There seem to be a plethora of them this month, from moths to gnats to weird flying things I've never seen before. Evenings and night are especially bad, especially for me since they eat me alive unless I use a repellent of some kind. But we can have firepit time again, and Larry's been cooking out a lot. Dinners are grilled corn, tomatoes, cucmbers, some kind of grilled meat or fish. The other night we had a small picking of green beans which I cooked with thyme and made a sauce from the pot liquer. Delicious.

Mixing a few flower garden photos in with today's post. I'll have to get some vegetable garden photos later. Here, the view down to the chicken house. The apple tree in center has a lot of apples but we're battling a thieving squirrel for them.

This month is serious food preservation month around here. We are not putting up any corn since we have too much left over from last year, but we are still doing tomatoes, and I made another batch of dill pickles over the weekend. I also flash-froze some squash and finally got bags for the vacuum sealer given to us by other son, so I am trying it out with the squash. The sauerkraut is working, onions and garlic are hung to dry, potatoes are stored away, and I'm saving the banana peppers we're getting to make pepper mustard. 

Rosemary in the big clay pot, thyme and sage in the planter on the wall. The tall, big-leaved plant is a hibiscus we transplanted from a swamp this spring. It's doing quite well in its new home.

There's dill for salads and bread, basil is flourishing, as are the thyme, rosemary, and sage. The parsley plants are disappointing but I'm hoping they'll hang on and over-winter so I'll have plants in the spring. I've dried plenty for this year's use anyway. Chamomile is blooming, the chives are growing...

Looking over the walled garden, where the dill, chives, basil, chamomile, and sad parsley are growing. Also some calendula, and there are watermelon vines, some Tenderette green beans, and a new planting of cucumbers in here. There are some grapes on the grape arbor. Yay! 

The only downsides: blight is hitting the tomatoes, some of them before they've had and ripe maters. And the deer. They got into my big flower bed and pretty well mowed it. So disappointing. 

The Naked Ladies are in their garden seat. I do love these flowers, also called Magic Lilies and a few other things.

We've had some rain, some real deluges and some showers but it is getting dry again and we've had to start watering. Again. It's been a boom or dust summer, seems like we can't get a balance between booming storms and dry, dry, dry,

Well. Besides gardens and weather, what have we been doing? Because really we do have a life of sorts!  Just a lot quieter than past summers. I've been working on my poetry more than I have for a while, and have written some fair stuff.  And we got two new-to-us recliners that I just love, but they meant a big rearranging project in the long room--which is currently cluttered with furniture to be prepared for our booths. I've been trying to get some things finished up just to get some space again. The workroom, where I am supposed to, um, work, is getting better now that Larry has finished working on two big pieces so I will be able to move back out there this week. 

Besides deer, we also have dog-and-cat problems. In this struggling flowerbed, the cat has decided to make it a litter box, and the dog has been walking through, so new barricades are up. Thyme, rosemary and oregano are in here, along with a red peony that has yet to bloom, some new iris and phlox, a sorry tea rose, lemon balm and bergamot.

We've also been doing more work at our booths and the extra attention is showing in sales. I think people are nesting this summer--since the usual travel is out, people are working on their homes, making changes and fixing things up. I've seen many home improvement projects in progress, and buyers say they're changing decor, or getting ready for autumn. Are you finding the same thing in your area/around your home? Are you nesting too? I guess I am, as I've made a few changes and have more in mind when we get time for them.

The road to my neighbor's house, about 3 miles away. It's a rough ride--this is a smoother portion. There is an escaped Chinese pheasant and his mate living somewhere in this area. I've spotted him a few  times on the road; our neighbors plan to try to trap the pair before winter, as they're unlikely to survive. She has a great hand with raising poultry, so I hope she is successful.

Oh, and we have new baby chicks! That's courtesy of our neighbor who bought pullet day-old chicks for 50 cents apiece and shared with us. So we'll have a new laying flock in a few months. We were down to 8 hens, which means an average of 6 eggs a day. Since we usually eat 4 for breakfast, that made it feel too tight, especially since our son and some friends like to get eggs from us.

That's about all the news from here. Just the usual day in, day out things that make life pleasant. I hope your days have been the same! 

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Covid Journal, Day 129: Content

Content

The rain came at last
after days, weeks of drought,
steady, cool bursts that soaked
stressed trees and gardens to new green.
We, the gardeners, know
that we did what needed to be done,
fed our gardens so that they will feed us.
Now we clink our glasses, celebrate
survival. It is enough for this day.

Tomorrow we begin anew,
pull weeds, check for damage.
Tonight, we light our fire,
watch the embers
glow in each other's eyes,
feel worry slide away,
claim the rest we earned.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Covid Journal, Day 121: Morning Thoughts

69 and clear.

These cool July mornings are such a blessing. While the day will heat up later and be in the 90's, the mornings are delightful, cool and crisp, perfect for al fresco breakfasts. Since mid-June almost all of our meals have been on the deck, and we have enjoyed it immensely. Food just tastes better outside, and coffee is definitely improved by fresh air. That's probably all in my mind, but I choose to believe it's true.

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Little Mister the hummingbird comes every morning to sit on his perch on the cherry tree, just a few feet from us. He seems to like the companionship. This little guy has returned for at least 5 years, and his routine of feeder protection continues. We will have to move one of the feeders just to thwart his greedy ways.

The flowers are struggling, as I said yesterday, but there are still some very pretty blooms coming on. The zinnias I started from seed have buds and should bloom soon, and the marigolds are doing well, both the ones in the planter and a few I put out in the flowerbed.

Here's a few photos of what's in bloom. I need to get back out with my camera and take some more.

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This lily is about 4 feet tall and needed a stake to hold it up.

Planted by the chipmunks!

I am cutting back the petunias a little to keep them from getting too leggy. They are doing well despite the heat, partly because they're in partial shade and partly because of Miracle Gro.

Fireweed bloom. I really like this wildling.

Live-Forever is almost ready to bloom. Last year the deer ate it, but this year I am prepared. See that whitish speck at the base of the plant? That's a piece of Irish Spring soap, a good deer repellant. We put it in various places, including around the vegetable gardens because one can never have too much deer repellant! Rabbits and other critters don't like it either. Good.

Yesterday I worked too hard and too long. It was midnight before I finished and got to bed. Today I intend to sit back a little, start a new book and recharge my batteries. I might make some cookies and finish up a couple more painting projects but won't be out in the gardens or getting into anything too strenuous. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm closing in on 70 and give myself some slack. We had planned to go to our Ravenswood booth today, but will go tomorrow instead.

It is difficult sometimes to not feel guilty about the comfort of my life. I was sitting on the deck with my coffee after breakfast, and feeling so...fortunate, and happy. Then unbidden, the thought of all those Americans who can't go to work, who have lost their healthcare because they can't work, who don't have gardens and access to free movement, who are worried about how they will pay for food, electricity and house payments--all those things flooded into my mind and I felt bad about being happy.

I feel helpless to do anything about the suffering of so many. All I can do is take care of us, and that feels selfish. Do you ever feel this way? Or are you one of those with overwhelming worries right now?

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Covid Journal, Day 120: Garden Talk

68 this morning, cool and perfect for breakfast on the deck. Still no rain, and none in the forecast up through the end of the week. Watering, watering, watering.

Fireweed, dug from a ditch years ago, doesn't seem to be bothered by dry weather.

Gardens seem to be the center of our universe these days. We were out early again this morning to get the watering done, and I hoed and weeded in the walled garden. I'm not happy with the layout this year, and will think about how to do it better next year. The green beans I planted in there are doing well and getting ready to bloom, and the two tomato plants by the gate are thriving. My little herbs are coming along slowly. I think the sprinkler just doesn't give them enough water so I may be carrying water to them again. I harvested more garlic,

and Larry planted the seedheads. I am pretty sure he didn't do it right as he planted the whole scape and didn't separate the bulblets. Oh well, maybe if they come up in clusters we can transplant. I need to learn more about growing garlic--ours have self-seeded for years, and we don't usually worry about them.

Basil, sunflowers, cannas and asparagus. Talk about random planting! The soil is just dry as dust, even though it was watered the day before.

Cannas, dill and wild purslane. I pulled some of the last to cook for greens. Didn't get to it today, but maybe tomorrow.

One of my two tomato plants in this little garden.

He finished digging the potatoes--they did not get very big, I'm sure due to the lack of rain--and the tops died back early. We got a nice lot of them anyway for our 10 pounds of sets. Larry worked up the ground to plant corn, probably tomorrow, and mulched his little pumpkin patch.

We have some netting over the pumpkin patch, held up by stakes, to keep rabbits and deer out of there. I also invested in some row covers and hoops so we could cover the late flat Dutch cabbages since we've been seeing some rabbits near that garden. There's electric fence but rabbits might be able to get under it. I am really trying to protect these plants as they'll be for making kraut, which we really like.

Sometimes it feels like a war, trying to protect and nurture our gardens. With all the rest of our 50 acres to roam, don't you think that the critters and bugs have enough and could leave our little area alone? But no, they want to come here because I guess our plants taste better. We've got a squirrel getting into the apple trees and stealing green apples, chipmunks after the birdseed, the rabbits, deer that will eat pretty much anything and everything--and that's not even mentioning the insects. Somehow we always seem to get enough despite having to share with so many other mouths.

I worked outside until noon, then came in to do some housework and get back to my painting projects. I finished up a sweet sofa or entryway table today, repainted a gossip bench that didn't sell (I'd painted it a dark red with a houndstooth check stencil on top, so this time it's a light aqua), painted a little bench, and started working on this cabinet.

Honestly, I'm not sure it's worth the work, but I started so I'm going to finish it. It has dents and dings and rust and some bent places but the shelves are sturdy and the doors work well. I got it at an auction for little or nothing, and planned to use it for storage in an outbuilding but we really don't need it. The photo above was  taken after I'd just started working on it; I sanded the rust, scrubbed off the dirt, and painted it with primer today, so it looks a lot better now. Next is new paint. It won't sell for much, but at least it won't go to the scrap heap.

Evening was spent on the porch, so restful. From the look of the sky, there will be no rain tomorrow.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.