Good morning

I'm just fine, thank you very much.  One friend emailed me a couple of days ago saying she was tired of "pancakes" (my last entry) and wanted me to sing a song.  I'm not in the notion of putting myself on the Internet today singing, but I am ready to summon my muse and come up with some sort of drivel for you all.  I haven't blogged for several days because of my impatience with Mother Nature; my garden is fine, but all the little plants that were showing above ground had to pause in their growth because of cold weather last week.  One cold front followed another.  We got some wonderful rainfall in the process, but it wasn't fun having to put on my winter coat and go outside to see a garden that didn't make any changes from one day to the next.  My main focus is on the garden in spring, so to pass the idle time, I kept my nose in various books and did very little but read for a few days.  The last two days were lovely, so I decided to take a risk and plant small amounts of corn and green beans... so I'm back!  

We did have a day last week that was nice enough to fence the garden to keep racoons, dogs, and opossums away from my vegetables and strawberries later on.  The fence is a story in itself, but one I'd rather not describe at the present time (of course, I went ahead and told the story anyway; see below).  It isn't a pretty fence, because we didn't want to spend money to protect a garden I may not be using very long.  Cliff is the greatest at using what he already has to make do, and he got the job done.  

Later on, when I'm showing you pictures of the garden, you will see that our fence is not a thing of beauty.  In fact, it could almost be a joke about crazy things rednecks do, like using duct tape and cardboard, for instance, to replace a broken window in the door of a car... not that we've ever gone that far.  I do recall the time my husband put a rusty door lock on my old clothes dryer, though, when it wouldn't stay shut.  Hey, it was all we had, and it worked for years!

No blood was shed in the garden, but when Cliff and I work together there is always some yelling.  I am not good at fence-building and other construction-type projects: moves that are obvious to my husband are oblivious to me.  I knew, going into it, that things would get noisy with our fencing project.  It's all just noise, and after fifty-five years living with a man, you come to the realization that it's only temporary, you won't get hit, and once the project is finished, love reigns.  I've heard the wind blow before!  

Also, these are times that give my husband new stories to spin for the amusement of relatives, and I, the butt of his jokes, laugh right along with them.  The funniest thing so far was that the grandson's significant other came around the the back of the house while Cliff was being loud, and she was shocked!  We didn't know she was even there until after she had turned and hurried away.  Yesterday I breached the subject with her, and we all had a good laugh; the grandson, of course, knows his grandpa is harmless and wouldn't hurt a flea (he's probably been yelled at a few times himself), but his girl friend thought the end of the world had come!   

How's that for a very honest story from two old relics?  And I didn't even think I was going to write about that.  

I'll be back in my garden again, with an attempt at growing some herbs in an old tractor tire full of dirt.  

Peace.

I am happy to tell you that Cliff got up, read this post, and didn't take offense at all.  That's how easy-going he really is.