It was hot today, and brightly sunny. We still have no pigs and no sheep, a minor sorrow. Michelle called several of her friends to ask on our behalf, and she came up with some potential animals. However, no sales.
I worked on my raised beds. I figured that, so long as it is dry, the compost will be easier to shovel than when it gets wet. So I spent a few hours layering up lasagna beds. I realized that I had had a mental block about finishing the garden bed, because I hadn’t made any paths, and I didn’t want to lay down the precious compost on a place I would just walk. How wasteful! So I pushed aside the hay I had put down where I wanted paths, and felt better about the whole thing. I then prayed that, whenever the Lord sends rain, that it would start gradually. I don’t have enough water to wet down the peat moss and the compost, so it can absorb the water. A dry sponge repels water for some time, until it is damp enough to absorb, and our garden material is like a dry rag. A gentle rain for a while, falling on the hay mulch I used to cover the (as yet unplanted) beds would help a great deal.
Phil cut down some of the larger tree stumps, right at ground level so that he can mow over them. He moved the goats for the second time this week. They don’t trim the grass and brush all the way down the way sheep do, but we can tell where they’ve been, at least a bit. (Sheep, by the way, are responsible for our idea of the “ideal lawn.” English manors kept the ground clipped with sheep’s amazing “mowing” ability.)
Our neighbors Julie and Colin, who own the 66 acres next door, came over. They were there with an architect, as they prepare to build a weekend cabin at some point this fall. They mentioned that seven years ago, the owner did a great job clearing our land. He removed all the large stumps and all the rocks. But then he didn’t plant anything. We have wondered at the lack of rocks—Dennis said that he had to dig up rocks constantly when he was clearing his pasture. Bless that former owner. That also explains why the largest stumps we have are about 5” across, and most are only one or two inches. Julie and Colin were very nice, and we were pleased to meet them.
From about 4pm on, we were at the Doug Bushes. They were having a party, and we had a great time. We met their homeschooling neighbors, the Getts, a trilingual family (he’s from France, she’s Hispanic). Their son turned seven, and they have another son who’s four. How wonderful for Jadon; he has not yet found a friend his age, though Ethan Bush (age about 11) is always kind and gracious. All the children ran around for many hours.
Doug’s son from Chicago is visiting. He lives in a mostly Hispanic neighborhood, and brought a piñata down. I don’t think the boys had ever seen one before, and they were laughing so hard. Little Abraham took the plastic bat and whacked that thing. All the other children had two turns hitting it multiple times. Doug wondered if they should use that material on the exterior of the Humvees in Iraq—it sure seemed indestructible. Finally the young wives of the two younger Bush children took their turns, and when Jaeme hit it to break it, the piñata broke perfectly—rather than dumping right below, it flung in a circle, in a beautiful shower of candy.
What followed was incredible. I remember my piñata days as a child, scrambling with other children, racing to get the most. Here, all the children gradually picked up what they wanted, perhaps offering a handful or two to my children. So dear! What well-raised homeschooled children. Most of it was not edible for us (artificial coloring), but the boys ate some caramels, and I enjoyed these Hispanic Tamarind candies, that were sweet, spicey (chili powder) and salty, all at once. Really odd.
For at least the last five years, shortly after I began having children, I have not gotten together with people multiple times a week. What a lovely experience.
And when we returned to our homestead, a gentle rain was falling, which gradually turned to a harder rain, that lasted over an hour. Ahhh.
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