Well things look different here as fall creeps up behind summer. Our “yards”–the ankle-bustingly lumpy, tree-free areas before and behind the dead mobile home–and pasture field finally got mowed. And a pleasant surprise occurred this past week or so: blackberries. Just like when I was a kid and we went over the fence behind the house and picked berries in the neighbor’s cow pasture. I have 13 quarts of them in the freezer. And we have eaten some too. Rick tells me there are a bunch more out back. So that is the next place I have to visit in my rubber boots and jeans for more bonus food.And the mowing. Finally. Our neighbors had their pasture mowed in June. We held off because we weren’t sure about the expense. Then we decided it needed to happen for peace of mind. So we called Cliff, who said he could fit us in two weeks out. We didn’t want to wait that long, but put on our “oh well” faces. The day before he was to come, he called to say he’d been having some hospital issues and wasn’t cleared to return to work yet. So it was another couple of weeks before we heard from him. He and Cooper were here Wednesday and Thursday, and we have a park.
Of course it’s a field mow, so it’s the raw, unfinished sort of park one might ride a horse through or take a nature walk in, but maybe not choose for a romantic picnic. But the romance is all here. It’s heady. And despite the fact that we’re both in need of more work, we have the solidity of this beautiful land to give thanks for.
Here’s how the tomatoes are doing–three of the 4 bushes have acquitted themselves handsomely considering the late planting, weird garden plot and rookie grower. We also dug around in the back yard of the mobile home yesterday and found the septic tank. I immediately broke a corner off of the lid with my shovel. Nice. Now we can bury it again and mark its location with some meaningful garden ornamental installation. But keep your suggestions to yourself.