Why is it that every day the farmer's almanac suggests as a good planting day is rainy and cold here?
Chilly, damp. April showers bring May flowers, at least that is what I always heard. But we have had a hard time getting many of the seeds of those May flowers in the ground.
Never mind. Somehow or another I have a feeling it is all going to work out just fine.
As I look at the amazing glow of the red buds and red maple blossoms and cherry blossoms and forsythia and oak blooms and who knows what else out there that is blooming, not needing my help, not needing my intervention, just blooming because an invisible force said "Bloom!" I know that there is something bigger at work. My little efforts are important. A nice contribution. But not the end all. Just as the chickens decide to lay more eggs, the grass decides to grow nice and green and tall and the trees send out leaves I have to plant seeds. Feeling a bit thwarted by the weather I do other things instead, knowing that in a day or two the sun will shine and like it or not, something will be ignored as we plant turnips and beets and broccoli and more.
Julie and Allen and Emily have come for a visit with Toby and Chloe and Roger (the dogs). They left their chickens and geese and turkeys in the hands of dear old dad and came to spend a bit of spring break with us. The kids gathered interesting bits of outdoor stuffs to try to make dye for eggs. They boiled dozens of eggs and dyed some with fake dye and some with their collections. The green stuff definitely worked best. The yellow eggs came out pretty well too. Even so, I really don't understand why anyone has to dye eggs when we have beautiful blue and green and pink and brown straight from the chicken...
Allen and Thomas and Philip gathered some old wood from the fallen down apple tree, killed by the horrible wind that blew that horrible day in April when horrible things happened on the campus of Virginia Tech. They made a fire. We ate our grass-fed steak, pan-seared with butter and hot curry powder, green beans and carmelized onions, mashed potatoes and candles because the light bulb went out and I didn't feel like searching for another. We drank some very tasty very cheap wine that Julie (God bless her) brought from Trader Joe's. Maggie even played some beautiful piano music before she headed out to feed baby goats. Thank goodness I milked Coco early so now all we have to do is go to bed.
The almanac on my calendar says that the next days are barren days, no good for planting.
That figures. On Friday I start baking for the farmer's market. A perfect day for planting. When I will be in the kitchen all day long. Oh well.
We were talking about the sabbath earlier this evening. About how the sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath. I wonder if I could suggest that the almanac was made for man, not man for the almanac???
Somehow or another those turnips and beets and lettuces and peas will be planted. On time or not. They can't help it. Something deep is crying out "Spring is here! Plant! Bloom! Wake up and live!"