It has been raining here for the past couple of days, but last Friday I snuck this photo in from the Taylor farm in Valle Crucis. Thank goodness this scene never changes, for I appreciate an even keel.
The other day a friend of mine insisted I had transitioned from being a gardener into a farmer. He based this on the fact that I was intent on killing crows haunting my meager, newly planted four rows of corn. I'm not a farmer because my definition of a farmer is one whose living, at least partially, is dependent on the crop(s) grown. For me, nurturing plants is but one of my therapies. If my gardens don't thrive, I might cry, but I do have others ways of making bank. Though I admit I am fairly obsessed with my dirt, seedlings and such. There are worse addictions...
For the record, I am particularly proud of my 200 bulbs of garlic. Their scapes will be coming out soon. And I am keeping my fingers crossed for a tremendous crop of tomatoes. I'm looking forward to creating my own brand of ketchup.
I have not talked about my children in a while. The home front is great. Both my girls are working hard and attending another two terms of summer school at Appalachian. This surely is not what they want to do. Most of their peers are off exploring summers abroad or back home playing with friends, etc... But reality bites, as does the economy, and they have sucked it up with great maturity. In the scheme of things, I hope they will be better served, or at least not be damaged, by the absence of spending 2 weeks in Costa Rica in an intensive language lab or maybe living a month New Zealand kayaking. Sheesh, who wanted want those opportunities? Welcome to Mom and Dad's world of living fiscally responsible and debt free, Sweeties.
