Corrections made 8/21/10
This is what happens when I read a book on mythology and think about the evils of to days world.
Scary ain't it.
A Modern Fairy Tale
One day a young woman I'll call Aluvus was driving from the city where she had been born and raised to the town she planned to live in. Her parents were dead and she was alone in the world and perhaps feeling a bit sorry for herself for being so alone in the cold cruel world.
As she drove she found herself in a deep woods that she didn’t remember seeing on the map. She pulled over at a rest stop and decided that a quick walk in the woods would settle her mind and ease her heart. She saw no problem with this as it was a bright and sunny day with just a few puffy ‘fair weather’ clouds floating above in a bright blue sky. It was hot on the parking lot of the rest stop but as she entered the woods she found the mottled shade to be cool and comforting. So she wandered here and there in the woods looking at the bright flowers and listening to the singing birds. But in her wandering she lost track of exactly where the rest stop was. When she realized this she also noted that the day was darkening even though her watch said it was still early morning
With a sigh she decided to go back to the rest stop, get in her car and continue her journey. But as she turned back toward where she thought her car was parked she realized she’d wandered farther into the woods than she had planned and she could no longer see the rest stop through the tree’s or even hear the cars dashing by on the road beside it. This did not worry her at first.
However, as she started to retrace her steps the sky became darker and she remembered some old stories she had heard of two sisters who’d lived in a long ago wood near the town where she planed to live. According to the old tale one sister had welcomed change, the future and even growing old while the other had rejected any change at all. Both had mysteriously disappeared. Even their family mansion had never been found even though the wood where they were supposed to have lived had been logged and well surveyed for future use long ago. This memory made Aluvus shiver. It was then that she realized she had lost the path she had followed into the woods and that the temperature was suddenly dropping with the failing of the light.
She pulled out her cell phone meaning to use the GPS app to find her way back but the battery died even as she looked in horror at the lack of bars on the phone. She did not panic but carefully looked about her and decided on a direction that she believed would take her back to the road at least. She remembered that she had gone uphill as she wandered away from the rest area so she thought that going down hill should get her to the road.
That was when the cold steady drizzle started. Soon she was wet through and through and shivering. She gritted her teeth and continued downward to where she supposed the road was. Then the wind picked up and began to make the tree tops sway and dance menacingly as the drizzle became a hard rain.
Aluvus stopped below a tree that only stopped the rain a little and tried to think what to do.
Lightening suddenly flashed and blasted a tree nearby! This frightened Aluvus as it would anyone. She knew that under a tree was no place to be during a thunder storm so she moved away and didn’t even notice that all the trees no longer held the spring leaves she had seen and expected when she stopped but were instead winter bare as they thrashed in the wind that began to howl through them. Above in the sky lightening flashed and thunder roared. Sometimes the lightening flashed and the thunder crashed all at once so Aluvus knew it was directly above her. She was now so frightened she was just running to get out from under the trees for fear of the lightening. The under brush and brambles between the trees tore at her pant legs and tried to tangle her feet.
Ahead of her through the flailing trees and nearly blinding rain she thought she saw a dim light. She headed toward it, hoping it was the light of a house and not the embers of a lightening burnt tree. The trees and brush that had hindered her before no longer got in her way and she soon found herself in a clearing around an old fashioned farm house. There was an old kerosene type lamp swinging above the door in the wind.
Aluvus rushed up onto the porch that surrounded the old house and was grateful to put her back to the door and stand shivering and wet below the old lamp. She was at least out of the wind and the rain there. She looked out and it seemed the rain and wind had increased. Eddies of it began to curl around the house and bring rain with it to where she stood shivering. It was as if the storm was after her, she thought.
Then the door behind her opened and Aluvus turned with a gasp to beg for shelter from the storm.
“Ah, there! That’s the noise I heard on the porch!” The lean older woman said as if startled. “I feared the lamp had fallen before I could take it in.” She continued reaching for it as she spoke. “As for you, poor thing! Come in and get dry and warm!”
Of course Aluvus accepted gratefully. The inside of the house that she could see looked warm and welcoming; well lit by candles and a fire in a large fireplace.
“Thank you, kindly.” she said as she stepped over the large door jamb. Though she did wonder why the light inside the house did not shine out through it’s windows.
Once inside the house seemed to change. As her eye’s adjusted Aluvus realized that the light was not nearly as bright as it had seemed nor was it as warm as it had looked. All the glass and mirrors she had glimpsed were not clean but dusty and grimy. The old woman was indeed very old and lean as an ally cat. Aluvus started to be afraid but the woman offered her something to eat to warm her and, realizing suddenly how very hungry she was Aluvus ate what she was given.
The old woman began to chuckle. “I have you now,” she muttered to herself. Then she cackled aloud, "You have accepted shelter from the storm and food. Now you must serve me until the storm breaks.”
Aluvus wanted to shake her head, scream NO! and run out the door. But there was a sudden crack of loud thunder, almost as if the house itself had been struck.
“You don’t really want to go back out in that now do you, Deary?” The old woman smiled. “Stay here where it is safe. All I ask is that you help me keep my house while the storm lasts. You will be well cared for and fed while we wait. There is nothing to fear.”
So Aluvus reluctantly agreed to stay forgetting the evil she’d felt in the old woman’s laugh.
The old woman gave her dry cloths to change into and let her dry her hair by the fire. Then asked her to help fix dinner in the kitchen.
When they took the food into the dinning room Aluvus gasped as she saw another older woman sat there at the table with an empty plate and an empty glass before her.
“Who is that?!” She gulped noting that only the woman’s eye’s moved.
“That is my sister.” The lean old woman grumped. “We’ve had a argument some time ago. Do not trust her for she is a wicked witch. I was able to turn one of her spells back on her. As long as water never touches her she will remain as she is. But if it ever touches her lips the spell will slowly fade and a terrible curse will fall on all in this house, including you!”
Aluvus found this hard to believe but found she had trouble thinking of anything other than what the old lady told her to do or think.
“ Let us eat.” the old woman grinned, “Don’t mind my evil old sister and don’t forget to use this lovely condiment. It’s the same as what I used on the food I gave you when you came in.”
Aluvus thought, “Oh, so that was that harsh and stinging taste on the sandwich. I thought the meat had gone bad.” but she did not say it. Indeed, she could not say anything against the old woman who had saved her from the storm.
The storm went on and on. It seemed every time Aluvus though of leaving thunder would crash as if striking a tree just outside the house. Days seemed to pass much as the first night had for Aluvus. Except that the lean old woman began doing less and less of the house work and Aluvus started doing more and more. Soon it was as if she were a servant and the old woman a harsh and angry master. Aluvus did ask the old woman everyday as she woke her for her chores, “What is the weather like today? Has the storm broken yet?”
But the answer was always, “No, no. The rain still pounds, the wind still blows. Can’t you hear it howling in the eves, or the thunder crashing over head. If you were out there you’d be dead by now!”
Aluvus cleaned and dusted constantly, from the time the old woman told her to get up until she was at last allowed to fall exhausted onto a thin, hard cot covered by a thin, inadequate blanket. She was always cold and the house always felt damp despite the fire burning in the fireplace and the wood stove in the kitchen. Aluvus also eventually was doing all of the cooking but she could never experiment with making the food more interesting or tasty, if she did the old woman would yell at her, throw it out and tell her to do it over the right way.
No mater how much Aluvus cleaned, dusted or cooked the house remained dusty and grimy and the old woman stayed skinny. Even Aluvus was starting to loose weight. She had begun to ignore the silent sister at the table even though that sister’s face seemed more kindly and gentler than her lean sister. Then one night the lean sister got very angry!
“Where is the condiment! You know we can not eat without it! We must have the condiment!!”
Aluvus shrank from the old woman’s anger and said subserviently, “But Grandmother, (that is what the old woman told her she must call her) the condiment jar is empty and you never told me where more was kept or even how to make more.”
And then for the first time the lean old woman left Aluvus alone at the table with her sister. Aluvus had gotten used to not eating until the old woman had taken a bite and took a sip to approve of the food and drink. Now as she sat waiting she looked around at the dingy dinning room and frowned. “Where does all this dust come from anyway?” she thought. “In fact, where does all the wood for the fireplace and the kitchen stove come from and the ingredients for these dull and boring meals?” Her eyes fell on the other, silent sister and she saw her smile at her. Then this other sister looked meaningfully at the glass of cold water beside Aluvus’ plate and then with undisguised longing into her face.
Many other questions began to boil into Aluvus’ mind and she acted on one. She picked up her water glass and went to the still, silent old woman at the far end of the table.
The second the glass touched the woman’s lips her silence was broken and she whispered urgent instructions to Aluvus.
As the old woman stopped speaking her lean sister hobbled into the dinning room.
“What are you doing! Don’t give her any water!” she screamed fearfully.
“Of course not Grandmother!” Aluvus stood up and returned to her seat. “But I noticed that her eye’s were closed for a change and I could not see her breath so I held my cold glass in front of her face to see if she were dead.”
“Oh, she lives, alright! She lives. The spell sees to that! Never fear. Now, here is the condiment,” she went on setting it before Aluvus, “Be sure you use it, now that I’ve gone to the trouble of getting it for you.”
But Aluvus obeyed the sister who still sat quietly smiling at the other end of the table instead and only seemed to eat the condiment on her food that night.
When she woke the next day, questions still filled her head. Above them all was, “How long have I been trapped here!” And this morning she did not wait for the lean old woman to tell her to get up. Instead she got up on her own, dressed in her old cloths, strode to the window in her room and flung the curtain back only to learn that the windows she’d never been ordered to clean were painted black. So then she walked briskly to the front door and jerked it open.
Aluvus smiled then. For outside the sun was shining on a lovely new day. There was only a light dusting of dew on the grass as birds flitted from tree to spring green tree in the surrounding forest. She walked out onto the porch and noted that it was much older and more dilapidated than she remembered it being when she ran up onto it during the storm. Then the quiet sister joined her and they both took a deep breath of the warm, clean spring air.
“Now, where is this town you are going to, my dear?” She asked in a warm, interested and lively voice. A voice not at all like the cold, demanding and demeaning voice of her sister. “Do you think I can find a place to stay there too? I think I’m ready to make a change myself?”
As they walked down the path from the old house the lean old sister dashed out onto the porch and screamed after them in her scratchy, whinny voice, “What are you doing you fool! I warned you not to give her water, now all is ruined and you’ll die out there in the storm! Don’t you see the lightening? Hear the thunder! Feel the icy wind as it lashes you? Come back! Come back! Stay here, safe, with me, where nothing changes! Where everything stays the same!”
Aluvus paused and looked back. The old house’s roof was nearly without shingles and it leaned alarmingly to one side. Brick was missing from the chimney’s top and some of the windows seemed to be covered with tarpaper and old boards and Aluvus supposed that those had no glass in them at all. No wonder the old place was always drafty, cold and damp.
“Almost less than a tent, isn’t it.” Sighed the old woman with her. “Thank you for breaking my sisters spell. Now, come.” She smiled brightly, “Let’s go on and see what the universe has in store for us! This will be so much fun!” and the old woman practically skipped ahead. Aluvus laughed and followed her. She found the way back to the rest stop easily and as she did the cell phone in her pocket rang.
When Aluvus answered it she found that it was the man she was on the way to the new town to talk to about renting a house while she searched for one to buy. “I’m just calling to tell you there’s no hurry getting here.” He told her. “So take your time and enjoy the drive. I’ll meet you for lunch at the local grocery store if that’s all right and we talk it over there.”
Aluvus realized that it was still the same day as she began to wander in the woods. She looked at the kindly old sister that was with her and laughed, “I’m bringing an old friend with me, do you mind?”
The realtor didn’t mind at all of course and eventually the kindly sister had a nice little apartment in a near by town while Aluvus eventually had the house with land she’d always dreamed of having. Though the old woman, Aluvus gladly called Grandma, seldom stayed in her apartment, as she was eager to travel and see the world.
Long years later as Aluvus reached the age of dear old Grandma, who had eventually passed on to her reward, she insisted on passing on to other young people the main part of the advise Grandma had given her to finely break her evil sisters spell.
For the last thing the kindly Grandma had whispered into Aluvus’ ear that night was, “And tomorrow do not wait for her to wake you, dress in your own cloths and even if she catches you do not ask her what the weather is like outside! Open the door and look for yourself!”
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Goats and more goats!
Well, at the end of January I had three very pregnant nanny goats. Momma Goat, Star and Baby.
It is now the middle of February and I have eight goats. Momma Goat is now Granny goat, and her daughters, Star and Baby have a half sister I'm calling Cookie and a half brother I'm calling Cream. Cookie is mostly black with a little white stripe and very few other spots of white. Cream is mostly a tannish grey with a narrow white stripe around his middle, a white face and black points here and there. Oh, he will be a handsome devil!
Star had two little boys that are half siblings of Granny Goat's kids. (everyone had the same daddy) Both are a light brown with white. The one with the big white spot on one side I am calling Cocoa. The other, who has a white star, a white tip on his tail and a scattering of other white on him is being called Latte'. (extra cream, get it. His brother, with just that one white spot has the marshmallow in the cocoa....dumb, I know but it works for me)
Baby had only one kid. This cute little gal is black on both ends with a wide white stripe around her middle. Couldn't help it. Her name is Oreo. Might nick name her Double Stuff because the white stripe is so wide.
Little Oreo arrived first early on Saturday morning. Before noon Cocoa and Latte' were here. Mean while Granny Goat was trying to take over poor Oreo from her Mom and Baby, as a first time mom was as confused as Oreo.
With the help of some friends we moved the interfering old Granny Goat over to my Dogs kennel. I was keeping him in because of the cold and wet anyway. I stuffed some hay into the dog house in the kennel and spread some around as well as making sure Granny had plenty of water.
Sunday morning I was greeted by tiny little baas from the dog kennel when I went out to feed every one and found Granny Goat busy with Cookie and Cream.
Friends helped out once more by moving Granny and her kids back to the main pen. Granny was no longer interested in 'stealing' Oreo.
These same good friends brought over an old rug, some wood and nails and together we used them to make the old chicken coop a little snugger for the mommas and the new kids.
And then it snowed. And snowed, and snowed.
Now the snow has all melted but all five kids are still here and I'm wondering what to do with all those little boy goats! I don't want to keep them until they grow into big smelly boys. So I guess I'll just have to sell at least two of them. Either Cocoa or Latte' will have to stay to keep Star's bag from getting too full. But then, whoever stays will be going bye bye as soon as he is weaned.
I have considered just trading that last young buck for another buck that isn't related but then I looked around and unless I put the critter right next to my house the only other spot for him would be way out in the pasture. That, what with the feral dogs, coyotes and bobcats would not be a good idea. Not if I wanted a live billy goat anyway. But he darn sure couldn't be right next to my house because it wouldn't be just the neighbors that would be complaining! I would be to when he started to, well, 'smell like a real ram.' So he will have to go as soon as he is weaned.
I guess when the time comes I'll just do as I did this time and find the girls a willing man. One who isn't related, of course.
For anyone who is interested none of these critters have any 'papers' as they were given to me. I have been told that Granny Goat is a full pygmy goat and that her two girls are only half. What the other half is...I don't know. As for the buck that was the Daddy of all my kids, I was told he was a full pygmy. I do know that he was shorter at the shoulder than any of my girls. He was a handsome fellow being mostly brown with some white and black accents and somewhat longish hair. So theoretically, Granny Goat's Cookie and Cream are full pygmy, while the other three kids are only three quarter pygmy.
Guess I need to check around to find out what 2 week old male pygmy goats are going for at the moment.
Any one want a cute little pet goat? Or two?
It is now the middle of February and I have eight goats. Momma Goat is now Granny goat, and her daughters, Star and Baby have a half sister I'm calling Cookie and a half brother I'm calling Cream. Cookie is mostly black with a little white stripe and very few other spots of white. Cream is mostly a tannish grey with a narrow white stripe around his middle, a white face and black points here and there. Oh, he will be a handsome devil!
Star had two little boys that are half siblings of Granny Goat's kids. (everyone had the same daddy) Both are a light brown with white. The one with the big white spot on one side I am calling Cocoa. The other, who has a white star, a white tip on his tail and a scattering of other white on him is being called Latte'. (extra cream, get it. His brother, with just that one white spot has the marshmallow in the cocoa....dumb, I know but it works for me)
Baby had only one kid. This cute little gal is black on both ends with a wide white stripe around her middle. Couldn't help it. Her name is Oreo. Might nick name her Double Stuff because the white stripe is so wide.
Little Oreo arrived first early on Saturday morning. Before noon Cocoa and Latte' were here. Mean while Granny Goat was trying to take over poor Oreo from her Mom and Baby, as a first time mom was as confused as Oreo.
With the help of some friends we moved the interfering old Granny Goat over to my Dogs kennel. I was keeping him in because of the cold and wet anyway. I stuffed some hay into the dog house in the kennel and spread some around as well as making sure Granny had plenty of water.
Sunday morning I was greeted by tiny little baas from the dog kennel when I went out to feed every one and found Granny Goat busy with Cookie and Cream.
Friends helped out once more by moving Granny and her kids back to the main pen. Granny was no longer interested in 'stealing' Oreo.
These same good friends brought over an old rug, some wood and nails and together we used them to make the old chicken coop a little snugger for the mommas and the new kids.
And then it snowed. And snowed, and snowed.
Now the snow has all melted but all five kids are still here and I'm wondering what to do with all those little boy goats! I don't want to keep them until they grow into big smelly boys. So I guess I'll just have to sell at least two of them. Either Cocoa or Latte' will have to stay to keep Star's bag from getting too full. But then, whoever stays will be going bye bye as soon as he is weaned.
I have considered just trading that last young buck for another buck that isn't related but then I looked around and unless I put the critter right next to my house the only other spot for him would be way out in the pasture. That, what with the feral dogs, coyotes and bobcats would not be a good idea. Not if I wanted a live billy goat anyway. But he darn sure couldn't be right next to my house because it wouldn't be just the neighbors that would be complaining! I would be to when he started to, well, 'smell like a real ram.' So he will have to go as soon as he is weaned.
I guess when the time comes I'll just do as I did this time and find the girls a willing man. One who isn't related, of course.
For anyone who is interested none of these critters have any 'papers' as they were given to me. I have been told that Granny Goat is a full pygmy goat and that her two girls are only half. What the other half is...I don't know. As for the buck that was the Daddy of all my kids, I was told he was a full pygmy. I do know that he was shorter at the shoulder than any of my girls. He was a handsome fellow being mostly brown with some white and black accents and somewhat longish hair. So theoretically, Granny Goat's Cookie and Cream are full pygmy, while the other three kids are only three quarter pygmy.
Guess I need to check around to find out what 2 week old male pygmy goats are going for at the moment.
Any one want a cute little pet goat? Or two?
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Rain, rain, rain
Well, I'm back.
I have this problem. You see I have this urge to actually DO things rather than sit in front of a computer wriggling my fingers on top of a key board.
Speaking of actually doing things. I built my very own 'Lasagna garden'/square foot garden about a week ago. Just before this last freeze here in the city of Lone Oak, in Hunt County of the great state of Texas.
I have been told that there are some folks out there who have no clue as to what the heck either a square foot garden or, perhaps especially, a lasagna garden is. Sorry, I forget that not everyone is as into the green thing or even just gardening as I.
Where to begin?
Square foot gardens might be best, I suppose.
In square foot gardening the aim is to grow as much as possible in a single square foot of space. It could also be, and maybe is, called intensive gardening. It often makes use of trellises instead of allowing things usually planted in 'hills' to spread out over the ground and thus take up more horizontal space.
"So what?" you may say. "I've seen all kinds of things growing on trellises. Roses, grapes that kind of stuff." Yeah, but Square Footers tend to trellis almost everything that would ordinarily spread out and leave the fruit laying on the ground. Things like pumpkins, watermelons, and cantaloupes as well as some variates of tomatoes and squash. Obviously they do not go for the biggest possible variety of these plants. You do not grow a 500 pound pumpkin on a trellis. Unless, of course, you know a competent welder.
Back to square foot gardening itself.
The square foot garden is usually no more than four feet across and is often only four by four feet in all and is also often a raised bed. Though one can be several feet long it should never be more than 4 feet across. This is so the gardener can reach into the middle of the garden without ever stepping into it. A frame of some kind, be it removable wired together dowel rods or permanently fixed, is also used. It is set up so that it marks of square foot sections of the four by four space. My understanding is that you then plant your plants, or seeds, at a fraction of the distance called for on the seed packets. And you do not thin the crop later. The whole idea is to have a thick planting. You want the plants to overlap and cut off the sun from any of the weed seeds that may be lurking in the gardens soil.
You will, of course, have fed that soil heavily with compost and composted manures that have been well mixed into the soil before planting.
Now for the oddly named lasagna garden and what I ended up with.
It is called a lasagna garden because it is built up of layers like a pan of lasagna.
First, the pan.
This is a nice layer of wet newspaper and you lay it down where ever you want your garden to be. Oh, don't bother with a shovel and forget gassing up the tiller. You place that wet newspaper right down on top of whatever is already there, be it lawn, or a mass of pressed down weeds. In fact if the grass is real tall you could mow it then rake it up for later use as a layer in the garden.
Anyway! Lay down the wet newspaper, overlapping the edges, in what ever shape you want your garden to be. You can go traditional with long rows or do as I did and make it a kind of four by four, sorta square. ( I didn't break out the tape measure and t-square if you are wondering.) I laid my saved up newsprint over the grass infested semi raised bed I'd made last year. I even used some old Lone Oak Newsletters which are printed on copier paper.
That done, I pulled a friends two wheel blue cart over to my goat pen and used a horse stall rake to pull out the hay the goats had trampled, and...umm...amended with their manure. I piled that on top of the wet newspapers and spread it out. It took two loads and I guess you could think of it as the pasta in the lasagna.
After recuperating from that exercise for a half hour or so on my front porch swing I trundled the blue cart out to that little hill of whats left of the horse manure pulled out of the horse barn last year. There I did need a shovel to dig up the rich, rich dark brown loamy stuff it had become. That was piled on top of the used hay in the garden and I called it a day. Keeping to the 'lasagna' model, I guess this layer would be the 'sauce'. The day after that the predicted cold snap was lurking nearer and I had recovered enough to prompt me to further effort.
I went to Wal-Mart(c) and bought some peat moss, potting soil, and, just for fun, some hard wood mulch. When I returned I unloaded my truck (with a little help) and then scrapped up some more of that well used goat hay to spread over the top of the composted horse manure. (another layer of pasta!)
Now at this point I have to point out that I could have kept going with these alternating layers until I had a pile about a foot high or even higher. Laziness and the coming cold got in the way of that. Instead, I spread the peat moss (cheese?) over the top of the used hay, opened up the bag of potting soil and started planting the cool weather veggies. I couldn't leave them outside in their little pots or they'd freeze and that would be a waste of my hard earned money. I couldn't bring them in either as the cats would likely eat or just destroy them and that would also be a waste of my money. They had to be planted and covered somehow.
Thus, I extended myself, and planted them all that afternoon with few rest breaks. Boy, did I pay for it that night! And the next day! And the day after. (There is a reason I'm on disability.)
I planted them this way. First I dug a hole through the peat moss down to the hay and filled it with a fist full of potting soil. Then I plopped in the plant, surrounded it with a couple of more fist fulls of potting soil and snugged the peat moss over the soil to keep it moist.
By the time I finished I had one nine pack each of Broccoli, Cauliflower, Brussel Sprouts, head cabbage and head lettuce as well as a good number of red and white onions planted in a nearly four by four area. Yeah, I know. It looks crowded even to me.
I was bone tired by then but I hung in there to deploy the wood and plastic contraption I'd come up with to keep the freezing cold away from the tender young veggies.
The wind that night played havoc with the plastic. Fortunately a weather report I'd missed had put the actual freeze off until the following night. A better thought out freeze protection contraption worked much better.
That was all a week or so ago. The plants seem to be doing fine. The thing I have fixed up to protect them from freezing nights may have to be deployed once more this coming week and in weeks to come, but I'm sure it will work again despite the holes the plastic has already developed.
They are cool weather plants after all.
I'll use the hard wood mulch either on my other gardens or build another lasagna garden and use it as I used the peat moss.
But first I need to buy a couple of Sunday newspapers.
I have this problem. You see I have this urge to actually DO things rather than sit in front of a computer wriggling my fingers on top of a key board.
Speaking of actually doing things. I built my very own 'Lasagna garden'/square foot garden about a week ago. Just before this last freeze here in the city of Lone Oak, in Hunt County of the great state of Texas.
I have been told that there are some folks out there who have no clue as to what the heck either a square foot garden or, perhaps especially, a lasagna garden is. Sorry, I forget that not everyone is as into the green thing or even just gardening as I.
Where to begin?
Square foot gardens might be best, I suppose.
In square foot gardening the aim is to grow as much as possible in a single square foot of space. It could also be, and maybe is, called intensive gardening. It often makes use of trellises instead of allowing things usually planted in 'hills' to spread out over the ground and thus take up more horizontal space.
"So what?" you may say. "I've seen all kinds of things growing on trellises. Roses, grapes that kind of stuff." Yeah, but Square Footers tend to trellis almost everything that would ordinarily spread out and leave the fruit laying on the ground. Things like pumpkins, watermelons, and cantaloupes as well as some variates of tomatoes and squash. Obviously they do not go for the biggest possible variety of these plants. You do not grow a 500 pound pumpkin on a trellis. Unless, of course, you know a competent welder.
Back to square foot gardening itself.
The square foot garden is usually no more than four feet across and is often only four by four feet in all and is also often a raised bed. Though one can be several feet long it should never be more than 4 feet across. This is so the gardener can reach into the middle of the garden without ever stepping into it. A frame of some kind, be it removable wired together dowel rods or permanently fixed, is also used. It is set up so that it marks of square foot sections of the four by four space. My understanding is that you then plant your plants, or seeds, at a fraction of the distance called for on the seed packets. And you do not thin the crop later. The whole idea is to have a thick planting. You want the plants to overlap and cut off the sun from any of the weed seeds that may be lurking in the gardens soil.
You will, of course, have fed that soil heavily with compost and composted manures that have been well mixed into the soil before planting.
Now for the oddly named lasagna garden and what I ended up with.
It is called a lasagna garden because it is built up of layers like a pan of lasagna.
First, the pan.
This is a nice layer of wet newspaper and you lay it down where ever you want your garden to be. Oh, don't bother with a shovel and forget gassing up the tiller. You place that wet newspaper right down on top of whatever is already there, be it lawn, or a mass of pressed down weeds. In fact if the grass is real tall you could mow it then rake it up for later use as a layer in the garden.
Anyway! Lay down the wet newspaper, overlapping the edges, in what ever shape you want your garden to be. You can go traditional with long rows or do as I did and make it a kind of four by four, sorta square. ( I didn't break out the tape measure and t-square if you are wondering.) I laid my saved up newsprint over the grass infested semi raised bed I'd made last year. I even used some old Lone Oak Newsletters which are printed on copier paper.
That done, I pulled a friends two wheel blue cart over to my goat pen and used a horse stall rake to pull out the hay the goats had trampled, and...umm...amended with their manure. I piled that on top of the wet newspapers and spread it out. It took two loads and I guess you could think of it as the pasta in the lasagna.
After recuperating from that exercise for a half hour or so on my front porch swing I trundled the blue cart out to that little hill of whats left of the horse manure pulled out of the horse barn last year. There I did need a shovel to dig up the rich, rich dark brown loamy stuff it had become. That was piled on top of the used hay in the garden and I called it a day. Keeping to the 'lasagna' model, I guess this layer would be the 'sauce'. The day after that the predicted cold snap was lurking nearer and I had recovered enough to prompt me to further effort.
I went to Wal-Mart(c) and bought some peat moss, potting soil, and, just for fun, some hard wood mulch. When I returned I unloaded my truck (with a little help) and then scrapped up some more of that well used goat hay to spread over the top of the composted horse manure. (another layer of pasta!)
Now at this point I have to point out that I could have kept going with these alternating layers until I had a pile about a foot high or even higher. Laziness and the coming cold got in the way of that. Instead, I spread the peat moss (cheese?) over the top of the used hay, opened up the bag of potting soil and started planting the cool weather veggies. I couldn't leave them outside in their little pots or they'd freeze and that would be a waste of my hard earned money. I couldn't bring them in either as the cats would likely eat or just destroy them and that would also be a waste of my money. They had to be planted and covered somehow.
Thus, I extended myself, and planted them all that afternoon with few rest breaks. Boy, did I pay for it that night! And the next day! And the day after. (There is a reason I'm on disability.)
I planted them this way. First I dug a hole through the peat moss down to the hay and filled it with a fist full of potting soil. Then I plopped in the plant, surrounded it with a couple of more fist fulls of potting soil and snugged the peat moss over the soil to keep it moist.
By the time I finished I had one nine pack each of Broccoli, Cauliflower, Brussel Sprouts, head cabbage and head lettuce as well as a good number of red and white onions planted in a nearly four by four area. Yeah, I know. It looks crowded even to me.
I was bone tired by then but I hung in there to deploy the wood and plastic contraption I'd come up with to keep the freezing cold away from the tender young veggies.
The wind that night played havoc with the plastic. Fortunately a weather report I'd missed had put the actual freeze off until the following night. A better thought out freeze protection contraption worked much better.
That was all a week or so ago. The plants seem to be doing fine. The thing I have fixed up to protect them from freezing nights may have to be deployed once more this coming week and in weeks to come, but I'm sure it will work again despite the holes the plastic has already developed.
They are cool weather plants after all.
I'll use the hard wood mulch either on my other gardens or build another lasagna garden and use it as I used the peat moss.
But first I need to buy a couple of Sunday newspapers.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Well looky there! A brand new year!
Well, it's a brand new year. Well into it in fact and I'm just now getting back to this blog thing. What can I say? I've been busy....Okay, okay! I'll admit I've also been a bit (!) lazy as well.
Seems the holiday's gave me a good excuse to do something else other than sit in front of a computer most of the day...and I LIKED IT!
Then, as those of you who might read this and live here in N. E. Texas also know, the December deep freeze has been followed by a spring like January with outside temperatures soring into the seventies. It's got my slightly greenish thumbs itching. I've even bought some cool weather veggies to plant. Now all I have to do is get the grass out of the one bed I've got that's sort of ready and dig some more. I'm planing on going the square foot gardening route.
Of course if it doesn't stop raining I'll have to give up on borrowing a tiller and just make some 'lasagna beds'. That would still work with the square foot method.
If you are lost and confused about what I'm talking about above, heh, heh. You're on the Internet for crying out loud! Go Google 'Organic Gardening', 'Square Foot Gardening' and 'Lasagna Gardening'. Or maybe just google 'gardening'. Whatever. Look it up.
The sun is shinning out there. It rained last night so the ground is soft.
My fingers are itching to get muddy.
Forget Farm Town. Forget Farm Ville.
I'm gonna go dig in some real dirt.
Seems the holiday's gave me a good excuse to do something else other than sit in front of a computer most of the day...and I LIKED IT!
Then, as those of you who might read this and live here in N. E. Texas also know, the December deep freeze has been followed by a spring like January with outside temperatures soring into the seventies. It's got my slightly greenish thumbs itching. I've even bought some cool weather veggies to plant. Now all I have to do is get the grass out of the one bed I've got that's sort of ready and dig some more. I'm planing on going the square foot gardening route.
Of course if it doesn't stop raining I'll have to give up on borrowing a tiller and just make some 'lasagna beds'. That would still work with the square foot method.
If you are lost and confused about what I'm talking about above, heh, heh. You're on the Internet for crying out loud! Go Google 'Organic Gardening', 'Square Foot Gardening' and 'Lasagna Gardening'. Or maybe just google 'gardening'. Whatever. Look it up.
The sun is shinning out there. It rained last night so the ground is soft.
My fingers are itching to get muddy.
Forget Farm Town. Forget Farm Ville.
I'm gonna go dig in some real dirt.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
The Old Year Ends
Well, well, well. Look at this. My last post was on December 13 and this one will be on December 31. The two numbers are the same, just reversed. SO WHAT! You say. Hey it's the kind of thing I notice.
And it is the last day of the year 2009. Next year is 2010 and I'm looking the big 6-0 right square in the face. Don't look too bad unless I use a mirror. (ugh! especially in the morning. Rearrange that mop on top of your head girl!)
This is when we are supposed to make resolutions to do better next year. I decided some time ago that the best resolution for me to make is to not make any resolutions. It's one of the few, other than to eat when I'm hungry, that I have a chance of keeping.
This past year has been as ho-hum as any other. I don't lead an exciting life. I did help my friend Peg by doing some drawings for a kids book she might get published next year. I've gotten a bit better at moving around. But I doubt I can ever again spend an 8 plus hour day walking or standing around on a hard concrete floor. Heck even sitting still at a computer like I do to read my e-mails, mess around on Face book, and write these witty (he, he, he!) lines gets to me when I have to get up and eeeeyow! my left knee doesn't want to work and tells me about it.
Next year will, hopefully be better.
Next year maybe I will get my seeds started in time to have a decent harvest of something besides cucumbers. ( Though my refrigerator bread and butter pickles were awesome if I do say so myself. And I should as there isn't one little chunk of those tasty things left!) Perhaps I can even convince myself to plant a fruit tree or two for harvisting a season or so down the road. I'd really like to plant some asparagus as well. Love that stuff but can't afford it much at the store. Which is understandable as the plant just won't listen to the big food combines and insists on doing things it's way. (It's usually two to three years before you can get a couple of asparagus spears from one plant and it doesn't take to replanting very well unless you are far more careful than a machine can ever be.)
I've spotted some big plastic, wire encased, square shaped 'barrels' that, if I can come up with the cash, I could turn into 'rain barrels' or cisterns. Of course then I'd have to find a way to catch the run off from my house and barns to direct it into them. Yes, I'd want more than one.
The problem, as always, is money. sigh. Now that I can no longer do a lot of the stuff I want done myself I have to ask, beg or hire others to do them for me. Be great if I ever win that big money from Publishers Clearing House but you know how that goes.
As for tonight and the New Years Eve celebrations. If I weren't a member of the local Vol. Fire Dept. I'd be setting here at home in front of a flickering TV snoring through the ball dropping in New York and even in Dallas. Then I'd snort awake, take the dog for a walk and go to bed.
But being a member of the VFD I will be with my fellow members of the department at the fire house, munching on pot luck goodies (I'm baking some cookies a little later to take), drinking non-alcoholic beverages, playing various games and waiting. Just waiting. Waiting for friends and neighbors to do something really stupid. Things like drive home drunk from a really rad party. Um. Make that TRY to drive home. Then there are the ones who get snockered and decide to celebrate by shooting their guns into the air, forgetting, in their inebriated state, that what goes up also comes down and can go through roofs...and bodies. Don't forget the ones who just have to have fireworks. Fireworks they may be too drunk to use responsibly. Fireworks that can hurt them or work just fine and set a neighbors house or pasture on fire instead.
Of course it has been real wet around here the past few days so the danger of grass fire's is not so great. House fires on the other hand are more likely as folks, especially if they are partying, can get clumsy with candles, fireplaces and/or wood stoves or even space heaters.
So the VFD has its own little, dry, party and we wait. We wait for the call's we really hope don't come. We'd all much rather stay in the warm, dry firehouse and munch on goodies and drink tea and sparkling grape juice. Yeah, that would be much better than being out in the cold and wet cutting a friend or neighbor out of a crashed vehicle or putting out a house fire, or any other of a lot of things we could end up having to do.
Hmmm. Just reread this. I really do need more sunlight.
And it is the last day of the year 2009. Next year is 2010 and I'm looking the big 6-0 right square in the face. Don't look too bad unless I use a mirror. (ugh! especially in the morning. Rearrange that mop on top of your head girl!)
This is when we are supposed to make resolutions to do better next year. I decided some time ago that the best resolution for me to make is to not make any resolutions. It's one of the few, other than to eat when I'm hungry, that I have a chance of keeping.
This past year has been as ho-hum as any other. I don't lead an exciting life. I did help my friend Peg by doing some drawings for a kids book she might get published next year. I've gotten a bit better at moving around. But I doubt I can ever again spend an 8 plus hour day walking or standing around on a hard concrete floor. Heck even sitting still at a computer like I do to read my e-mails, mess around on Face book, and write these witty (he, he, he!) lines gets to me when I have to get up and eeeeyow! my left knee doesn't want to work and tells me about it.
Next year will, hopefully be better.
Next year maybe I will get my seeds started in time to have a decent harvest of something besides cucumbers. ( Though my refrigerator bread and butter pickles were awesome if I do say so myself. And I should as there isn't one little chunk of those tasty things left!) Perhaps I can even convince myself to plant a fruit tree or two for harvisting a season or so down the road. I'd really like to plant some asparagus as well. Love that stuff but can't afford it much at the store. Which is understandable as the plant just won't listen to the big food combines and insists on doing things it's way. (It's usually two to three years before you can get a couple of asparagus spears from one plant and it doesn't take to replanting very well unless you are far more careful than a machine can ever be.)
I've spotted some big plastic, wire encased, square shaped 'barrels' that, if I can come up with the cash, I could turn into 'rain barrels' or cisterns. Of course then I'd have to find a way to catch the run off from my house and barns to direct it into them. Yes, I'd want more than one.
The problem, as always, is money. sigh. Now that I can no longer do a lot of the stuff I want done myself I have to ask, beg or hire others to do them for me. Be great if I ever win that big money from Publishers Clearing House but you know how that goes.
As for tonight and the New Years Eve celebrations. If I weren't a member of the local Vol. Fire Dept. I'd be setting here at home in front of a flickering TV snoring through the ball dropping in New York and even in Dallas. Then I'd snort awake, take the dog for a walk and go to bed.
But being a member of the VFD I will be with my fellow members of the department at the fire house, munching on pot luck goodies (I'm baking some cookies a little later to take), drinking non-alcoholic beverages, playing various games and waiting. Just waiting. Waiting for friends and neighbors to do something really stupid. Things like drive home drunk from a really rad party. Um. Make that TRY to drive home. Then there are the ones who get snockered and decide to celebrate by shooting their guns into the air, forgetting, in their inebriated state, that what goes up also comes down and can go through roofs...and bodies. Don't forget the ones who just have to have fireworks. Fireworks they may be too drunk to use responsibly. Fireworks that can hurt them or work just fine and set a neighbors house or pasture on fire instead.
Of course it has been real wet around here the past few days so the danger of grass fire's is not so great. House fires on the other hand are more likely as folks, especially if they are partying, can get clumsy with candles, fireplaces and/or wood stoves or even space heaters.
So the VFD has its own little, dry, party and we wait. We wait for the call's we really hope don't come. We'd all much rather stay in the warm, dry firehouse and munch on goodies and drink tea and sparkling grape juice. Yeah, that would be much better than being out in the cold and wet cutting a friend or neighbor out of a crashed vehicle or putting out a house fire, or any other of a lot of things we could end up having to do.
Hmmm. Just reread this. I really do need more sunlight.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Well Ain't That a Kick in the Arm.
I can now honestly and faithfully report that getting the crap kicked out of you by a horse is NOT FUN. It HURTS. It is also scary, chilling even. If that twelve hundred or so pound beast had kicked just six or seven inches higher he'd have smashed his muddy hoof into my face.
Big dumb cottonpickin' &*^# freaking $^%*! HORSE.
Note please that in none of the above (not even in the suggested vulgarity) did I say Stupid. That epithet I reserve for myself.
After all I was the one who did not observe the beast closely enough to realize that he was restive or starting to 'feel his oats' and was thus surprised into just standing there turned slightly to my left with my right arm pulled up over the right side of my chest as the beast brushed by on that side.
The good thing about that is I have two big nasty bruises, one on my forearm and the other on my upper arm where his hoof hit me instead of a bigger hoof shaped bruise on my right boob.
The bad part is he hit me hard enough to knock me down on ground that was, at the time, as hard as brick and I landed badly on my left wrist. A wrist now decorated with an ugly big black brace that the Dr. tells me I must wear until the fourth of January.
The brace does help keep the hairline fracture in one of the many tiny wrist bones from hurting much and the pain meds prescribed do a fairly decent job not only on the wrist but on the back, shoulder and assorted other aches and pains that showed up shortly after the incident. But nothing helps me cope with trying to type with the thing on.
I've recently stopped taking that medicine however, and switched to a plain OTC pain killer as I just don't like the idea of taking anything with a narcotic in it.
Don't know if it's the narcotic I don't trust (Think of the old Native American tales of either the Scorpion or the Rattle Snake) or if it is myself that I don't trust with the narcotic.
Oh, some of you may not have heard of either of those tales. They are cautionary tales, both of them, and follow the same general story line. Basically an innocent, either a young warrior or larger animal comes across one of the poisonous two I mentioned above. I believe that with the snake it is a young warrior on his spirit quest that finds a rattle snake high up on a mountain, nearly frozen. He starts to leave the snake there to die but it speaks to him and begs him to take it down to the valley where it can survive promising that it will not bite him if he saves it's life. So the young warrior puts the nearly frozen snake inside his shirt and starts down the mountain. The snake soon warms up while riding there and, as soon as it can move, it bites the young warrior. The warrior cry out as he falls, "Why did you do this you foolish snake! We are still far up the mountain! I will die of your poison and you will surely freeze and die as well!" The snake replies, "True. But I am a rattle snake and you knew what I was when you picked me up!"
The tail of the scorpion is much the same only, as I remember it is a wolf or some such that a Scorpion convinces to carry it across a flooded river. Half way across the scorpion stings the beast carrying it. The stung critter says "Why did you sting me! Now we both will drown!" To which the scorpion replies. "I only did what it was in me to do. You knew I was a scorpion when you agreed to carry me."
Much the same can be said, I suppose, for me and that horse. I knew it was a big beast. That much was obvious. I also knew that he had been penned up in a smaller area than he needed while a painful hoof was being doctored. A hoof that he wasn't limping on near as much as he had been. If I had been paying attention I might have already let the fellow out into the larger pasture where he could run and burn off those oats he expended by kicking me. Instead I went about my chores as I had been doing them during the time the horse was being kept up.
That is one of the things that we humans really must remember. Especially about our fellow critters that happen to be either/and/ or bigger, heavier, stronger than us or even with sharp claws and teeth. They have their view of the world and what should happen in it.
Horses like to 'play' and often do so by bumping past each other and letting their hooves fly 'knowing' that the other 'horse' will of course start running and bucking as well. I was not another horse but a rather clumsy, fat, slow, old human too startled to move. So instead of first shying away and then running and bucking along, I got kicked in the arm.
I knew what kind of critter I was walking into a pen with, I had just not been observant enough to realize that said critter had become restless.
So here I am, trying to type with a brace on my left wrist.
At least it wasn't a kick in the head.
(Note to any who may have read the tales I mentioned above: I'm doing this whole thing from memory. If I quoted too much to not say more about where I got those stories, please let me know the book they are in etc. Firstly so I can come back to this blog and make note of it and secondly so I can look the book up at the library and read it again. At least I don't think I own the book I read them in. Hmmm. Maybe I'll start rummaging around in the boxes of books I still haven't unpacked. As I remember that was an interesting book...now what was it called...)
Big dumb cottonpickin' &*^# freaking $^%*! HORSE.
Note please that in none of the above (not even in the suggested vulgarity) did I say Stupid. That epithet I reserve for myself.
After all I was the one who did not observe the beast closely enough to realize that he was restive or starting to 'feel his oats' and was thus surprised into just standing there turned slightly to my left with my right arm pulled up over the right side of my chest as the beast brushed by on that side.
The good thing about that is I have two big nasty bruises, one on my forearm and the other on my upper arm where his hoof hit me instead of a bigger hoof shaped bruise on my right boob.
The bad part is he hit me hard enough to knock me down on ground that was, at the time, as hard as brick and I landed badly on my left wrist. A wrist now decorated with an ugly big black brace that the Dr. tells me I must wear until the fourth of January.
The brace does help keep the hairline fracture in one of the many tiny wrist bones from hurting much and the pain meds prescribed do a fairly decent job not only on the wrist but on the back, shoulder and assorted other aches and pains that showed up shortly after the incident. But nothing helps me cope with trying to type with the thing on.
I've recently stopped taking that medicine however, and switched to a plain OTC pain killer as I just don't like the idea of taking anything with a narcotic in it.
Don't know if it's the narcotic I don't trust (Think of the old Native American tales of either the Scorpion or the Rattle Snake) or if it is myself that I don't trust with the narcotic.
Oh, some of you may not have heard of either of those tales. They are cautionary tales, both of them, and follow the same general story line. Basically an innocent, either a young warrior or larger animal comes across one of the poisonous two I mentioned above. I believe that with the snake it is a young warrior on his spirit quest that finds a rattle snake high up on a mountain, nearly frozen. He starts to leave the snake there to die but it speaks to him and begs him to take it down to the valley where it can survive promising that it will not bite him if he saves it's life. So the young warrior puts the nearly frozen snake inside his shirt and starts down the mountain. The snake soon warms up while riding there and, as soon as it can move, it bites the young warrior. The warrior cry out as he falls, "Why did you do this you foolish snake! We are still far up the mountain! I will die of your poison and you will surely freeze and die as well!" The snake replies, "True. But I am a rattle snake and you knew what I was when you picked me up!"
The tail of the scorpion is much the same only, as I remember it is a wolf or some such that a Scorpion convinces to carry it across a flooded river. Half way across the scorpion stings the beast carrying it. The stung critter says "Why did you sting me! Now we both will drown!" To which the scorpion replies. "I only did what it was in me to do. You knew I was a scorpion when you agreed to carry me."
Much the same can be said, I suppose, for me and that horse. I knew it was a big beast. That much was obvious. I also knew that he had been penned up in a smaller area than he needed while a painful hoof was being doctored. A hoof that he wasn't limping on near as much as he had been. If I had been paying attention I might have already let the fellow out into the larger pasture where he could run and burn off those oats he expended by kicking me. Instead I went about my chores as I had been doing them during the time the horse was being kept up.
That is one of the things that we humans really must remember. Especially about our fellow critters that happen to be either/and/ or bigger, heavier, stronger than us or even with sharp claws and teeth. They have their view of the world and what should happen in it.
Horses like to 'play' and often do so by bumping past each other and letting their hooves fly 'knowing' that the other 'horse' will of course start running and bucking as well. I was not another horse but a rather clumsy, fat, slow, old human too startled to move. So instead of first shying away and then running and bucking along, I got kicked in the arm.
I knew what kind of critter I was walking into a pen with, I had just not been observant enough to realize that said critter had become restless.
So here I am, trying to type with a brace on my left wrist.
At least it wasn't a kick in the head.
(Note to any who may have read the tales I mentioned above: I'm doing this whole thing from memory. If I quoted too much to not say more about where I got those stories, please let me know the book they are in etc. Firstly so I can come back to this blog and make note of it and secondly so I can look the book up at the library and read it again. At least I don't think I own the book I read them in. Hmmm. Maybe I'll start rummaging around in the boxes of books I still haven't unpacked. As I remember that was an interesting book...now what was it called...)
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Apologies!
Sorry! Just realized that I've skipped a whole month! And I can't even use the excuse of being busy getting ready for the holiday's as I'm to flat busted broke to do more than get a few (very few) cheap (very cheap) gifts for just the folks I see the most often.
No! One is not going to be for my shrink! Though sometimes I wonder if I might not need one really bad.
I know! I can blame it on the season this way. I can note that I've started wanting to sleep up to 10 hours a day now that it's getting cold and dreary and I see far less sun than I used to. What do they call it. It has some fancy name...seasonal depression? Nah. It's called something fancier than that I think.
It's supposed to be caused by the absence of enough sun light during the winter. It causes you to not want to move much, so you just stay in, eat and sleep. It's great for gaining weight. I just usually say that I'm just an old bear and that wants to hibernate.
It's what I feel like sometimes.
Yeah. I know! I should get one of those full spectrum lights and sit or work under it whenever it's cloudy out and after the sun goes down when it's not. Sigh.
All I can say to that is what part of the first part of this blog did you not understand. You remember, the part about being without a lot of extra cash. (Umm. make that Grouchy Old Bear. )
Well, it's not raining at the moment, maybe if I take my dog out for walkies that should make us both happy...at least for a while. Sigh.
I hate cold, wet and dreary. I could solve the problem if I were rich. I'd just pack up the critters and move down to the equator or some such. Down near sea level or far enough above to stay away from tsunami's and such. And hurricanes. But then there's the bugs and the guerrillas (not the gorillas). Oh, man, see what I mean.
Heck with it. I'm going for a walk.
No! One is not going to be for my shrink! Though sometimes I wonder if I might not need one really bad.
I know! I can blame it on the season this way. I can note that I've started wanting to sleep up to 10 hours a day now that it's getting cold and dreary and I see far less sun than I used to. What do they call it. It has some fancy name...seasonal depression? Nah. It's called something fancier than that I think.
It's supposed to be caused by the absence of enough sun light during the winter. It causes you to not want to move much, so you just stay in, eat and sleep. It's great for gaining weight. I just usually say that I'm just an old bear and that wants to hibernate.
It's what I feel like sometimes.
Yeah. I know! I should get one of those full spectrum lights and sit or work under it whenever it's cloudy out and after the sun goes down when it's not. Sigh.
All I can say to that is what part of the first part of this blog did you not understand. You remember, the part about being without a lot of extra cash. (Umm. make that Grouchy Old Bear. )
Well, it's not raining at the moment, maybe if I take my dog out for walkies that should make us both happy...at least for a while. Sigh.
I hate cold, wet and dreary. I could solve the problem if I were rich. I'd just pack up the critters and move down to the equator or some such. Down near sea level or far enough above to stay away from tsunami's and such. And hurricanes. But then there's the bugs and the guerrillas (not the gorillas). Oh, man, see what I mean.
Heck with it. I'm going for a walk.
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