Even though the ruby-throated hummingbird isn't expected in Missouri till mid-April at the earliest, I went ahead and put a hummingbird feeder out. Everything else has been early this year, why not the little hummers? Who ever heard of harvesting morel mushrooms in March? Of course I realize mushrooms don't look at the calendar: they only heed ground temperature.
I also put the Baltimore Oriole feeder out ahead of time, with grape jelly on it. I only got well acquainted with them last year. I hope they return. They don't hang around long, but they sure brighten up the yard while they're here. The goldfinches are a bright yellow now, and they are always around.
There is a slight chance of a frost tonight. Most of the vegetables in my garden that are up won't be harmed by a frost. I do have a row of green beans I planted from last year's seed, but rather than try to cover them for protection, I think I would just replant. There is one tomato plant set out so far; I will cover it if the threat of frost continues.
When we moved back here into the trailer house, Cliff's sister moved into our old house. One of the first things she had Cliff do after she moved here was to put up a clothes line. There had been a clothes line in times past, but when I was working full-time I didn't use it much, and Cliff got tired of mowing around it; so I told him to take out the poles if he wanted to.
Well, obviously I don't have a job now, and since there was a clothesline in Rena's yard, I decided to make use of it. It's quite a trek over there if you are carrying a basket of wet clothes, but I put the basket in a little red wagon and hauled the clothes that way. I never complained about this. I was just glad to be able to save a little on electricity. Oh, every once in awhile I would lose some underwear from the top of a basket of dry clothes, but somebody always noticed it and retrieved it.
I guess Cliff felt sorry for me having to take my laundry all that distance, because last week he put up a clothesline in our back yard.
I must go make a pumpkin pie. Actually it'll be a squash pie, because that's what I have in the freezer. Last time I made a squash pie, picky granddaughter Amber ate a piece and said, "Now THAT'S what pumpkin pie should taste like!"
Someone informed her it was squash, and I thought there for a minute she was going to puke. After pronouncing it perfect, she was aghast that she had been tricked.