Raised Beds

I have progressed to raised beds. Eight 4'x8' raised beds made of landscaping timbers. I wasn't going to plant deer food, aka "corn," this year, but after seeing how much room I have, I decided to put two rows of corn and a row of sunflowers behind the beds. The beds are spaced wide enough for the tiller or lawn mower to fit between them, although hopefully the mulch will eliminate the need for either. I *need* at least eight more raised beds, but am prepared to make do with planting any excess in the tilled plot in front.

Possum

This visitor appeared in my herb garden after a heavy November rain. I tried to shoo her away with a rake, but she stood her ground. Matt the border collie tried to get a close inspection (while thoughts of Old Yeller came to mind), and she stood her ground. Possum (opossum to non-Southerners) are plentiful here in the FC both in the living and road-kill form, although generally only the road-kill form is seen during the day. I don't really like these creatures with their beady, shiny eyes and yucky rat tails, but they are the only marsupial native to the United States, which is very cool. And this one seems to be doing a fair job of eating the grubs out of my shade garden.

Check out the huge tomato plant still thriving in November! I stuck in in the herb garden because I forgot to plant it with the other tomatoes in the vegetable garden. Those didn't last nearly as long in the summer heat.

Christmas Memories

The horrors of Santa Clause.

Crossing the Line...County, That Is

A plumber is scheduled to come out this morning to fix a busted something-or-other on the hot water heater, so when my phone rang, that's who I was expecting the caller to be. Instead, the caller said, "Yes Ma'am, I am trying to deliver some flowers to you and we can't find your address." Our house is on a private road, meaning we do not show up on Google maps, Mapquest or GPS. It's a blessing and a curse.

I am not currently observing any birthday, anniversary, funeral or holiday. Mother's day is too far away for flowers. No one owes me an apology (that I know of) and I haven't done anything flower-worthy lately (that I know of). All this is going through my mind while I am giving directions to the caller. She suddenly interrupts me and asks suspiciously and somewhat accusingly, "Do you live in Fayette County?" Now I learned a long time ago to tell anyone delivering anything to my house that I live in Arlington, which everyone knows is in Shelby County. Arlington is on every piece of mail delivered to my house. Let it slip that you live in the FC, and it's a whole new ball game with a whole new delivery charge.

"Um, well, yes," I confess to her, "but it's really Arlington; it's just a mile or so [as the crow flies] from the county line."

"I'll have to ask my boss about this," she says, and I get the feeling she is retracting the whole flower offer. "We just don't cross the county line." Sure enough, she sent the order to the FC. Good.

So, if you are fortunate enough to live in Fayette County, please use Fayette County businesses.

Flower or Weed? Eye of the Beholder

This little flower is as common as dirt in the FC and will thrive in the hardest, driest clay we have to offer, or conversely in the marshiest meadow.

While it's as welcome as any other week in my garden (not), it's actually quite pretty close up. And at a distance, when it fills a field, it is beautiful.