More onions. Lettuce, spinach, peas, turnips, fava beans. Outside planting.
Two tons, give or take, of fresh compost. Still-manure-smelling compost. As in, our yard smells a bit "barnyard fresh." Now spread across beds that await planting.
Packages from the guys in the brown. Our UPS guy even knows our daughter's name, since she gets so many packages, but lately these have been for me. Blueberries. Grapes. Yum.
Cumin, more lettuce, okra. Inside planting. Daily heating and lighting for tomato, pepper, broccoli and tomatillo seedlings.
Bike rides to Sonic. To Chipotle. To somewhere, anywhere.
Pumpkin bread made from the second to last pumpkin left from the fall. Home-ground wheat too.
Plants moved from the basement to the outdoors, to take refuge in the garage when a freeze threatens. Raspberry, blueberries, grape. More yum.
Hail and rain at the end of a beautiful evening with friends.
Until next time, remember: this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch. Although, frequently, I marvel that paradise will be so much more amazing than these snippets of our lives.