Picking stuff

I haven’t written much, but then not much is going on. The days blur together. I’ve been sick for almost two weeks now, and that slowed me down. I celebrated my birthday a day early because I had to work on my birthday. My usual celebration is to not do any work, but just sprawl out and read. Like I used to do all summer when I was a kid.

The garden is just coasting along right now. This is the easy time–all I have to do is water (when it doesn’t rain) and pick. It’s been raining pretty frequently this year. My tomatoes are loaded with green ones, but none has ripened yet. At the moment I’m pulling small beets and enjoying them. This year’s wild blackberry crop was fabulous; I picked enough for two pies and also froze four quart bags.

We still have no fence for a dry lot, so the horses are still inside 22 1/2 hours a day. They don’t mind a bit, but we’re getting heartily sick of picking stalls. I was complaining about it to my farrier yesterday, and he said he has to clean EIGHT stalls. I must remember to keep things in perspective!

Last night we went to the grocery store, and I noticed several items that touted the fact that they contained “real” food items. Wow, ice cream “with Real Milk!” One wonders what all the other products contain. It is a sad state of affairs, truly, and it makes me glad that I have a garden that contains real beets and real tomatoes and real cabbage. My real corn was eaten by a deer, which is running around somewhere with a label: contains Sarah’s real corn.