I'm trying to be more helpful in the garden this year – usually I have some infrastructure thing going on, and leave most of the work to C. But there is too much work out there for one person. And I can do lots of it – the paths are a little wider this year, and I can plant and pick from a sitting position. Still can't tell a baby cabbage from a weed, but maybe I'll learn. Or maybe she'll just keep me well away from baby cabbages.
Today I'm all about tomatoes, worked at it furiously all day, and got just 48 transplanted into larger pots in the greenhouse. That's a flat and a little bit of another. We had three flats and a few trays of little pots, so I'm maybe a quarter of the way done. That's not so bad. It's hard on the back, so that might just be my daily limit.
I was too busy planting tomatoes to go to the feed store, so the chickens are going to get creative meals tomorrow. Sprouted barley and rolled oats, anyone? Corn-chip crumbs and sunflower seeds? Maybe fava beans and a nice chianti.
C. continues to putter on the rock path from house to garden. Earl decided to help and dug up the middle of it today. He was sent to his room for a while. She's filling the edges and cracks with thyme from the flower bed, as well as plants volunteering in the wrong places in the garden. I think there's a clump of oregano in there. That stuff is a weed here!
We drove up to the north gate and browsed the big pile of rocks there for flat ones for the path. C. found a skink – this one was an adult without the bright blue tail of the juvenile lizard. We held it for a while, and put it back under its rock. Lizards are cool.
We came away with a dozen or so flat rocks, a couple large enough to take both of us to lift each into the car, and a few cranky red ants that promptly bit C.
One measly egg today. Fortunately we got three dozen, and two gallons of milk, from Rose yesterday.
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