Time is Flying

High 90's on the farm today.

I weedeated this morning. Now I think I truly understand what people meant when I was a kid and they said we were growing like ragweed.

Thomas dug up some more potatoes for me and I am very thankful to see the pile growing. They will make quite a few meals for us in Texas hopefully.

I think if everyone grew potatoes we would live in world peace.

It is such a miracle, really.

You cut up a potato, stick it in the ground. Cover it up with lots of hay mulch, and before you know it, little teeny piece of potato grew into a big pot of mashed.

Of all the things we have grown in the garden, potatoes give me more pleasure than any of them.

The other day I had to celebrate something and grated up the very first ones and fried them extra crispy for me and Rachel.

It was a true celebration.

Made me feel good.

Tonight we didn't eat potatoes. But I certainly felt good after the feast we enjoyed. I had to look over some business and was too distracted to cook. Maggie roasted a chicken, sauteed green beans and baked eggplant for our dinner. It was divine. She and Thomas and I ate with our fingers out on the deck and talked about the hard parts of leaving our wonderful farm and the wonderful parts of moving into a sweet small town, ringed by our favorite mountains. We talked about all the work that has gone into making this house our home and how our family is suited for fixing up older homes and making them special.

After dinner, we all washed up, I said goodnights to the little girls and enjoyed the cool of the western breeze on the deck. The moon is waxing and almost full. Shrouded by clouds. Fireflies are almost gone. Here we are in mid-July. I think the damson plums are ripe. Maybe the kids will pick some tomorrow.