Two Sides Done

The dogs woke me at 5:45am. I poked Phil to see if there was a raccoon or fox attacking the chickens. Then his phone beeped as an alarm clock, and I remembered that he had hoped we could get an earlier start for work. That was pretty early, but I'd had a rough night of sleep (poor Joe—all the time on the lift yesterday meant that, despite a shower, his skin was a bit prickly from insulation bits; he woke me up every hour), so I was ready. We'd had breakfast and quiet time and such by 7am. The sun was just peeking out, and the eleven panels looked good in the morning sun.

We were done with that side before eleven. We'd hit our stride, and despite the two sections of repaired insulation, we had no difficulty at all.

But Phil was physically about done. Several hours later, after he had a nap and some rest, we headed out to do the back side of the building. Some folks from down the road saw our progress and stopped by. (People wouldn't usually just stop by to chat in Boulder. Certainly not for a half hour or more. It's an interesting bit of rural life: a few times a year we have drop in guests and stand around chatting.)

By the time we hit our rhythm again, Phil started to saw through the edges of one of the side panels, trying to ensure that it would fit. About halfway through, he had worn the metal bit down to a nub. And when he went to find another one—he had worn them all out. And the hardware store had closed for the evening. Rural hardware stores are not big boxes: they keep shorter hours.

I hadn't been off the farm since our trip to New Jersey, and I have had a hankering for ice cream during the hot, sweaty workdays. So we packed the boys in the car and headed up to Charlottesville for a hardware store run and to get some ice cream at Whole Foods. And can I just say, the $1.10 chocolate coated ice cream on a stick that the boys and I had hit every spot of yum I had. Abraham said, "We just ate some heaven!" We sat, surrounded by orchids, and enjoyed a taste of summer.

(And when we got home, the three remaining hens had not been picked off, as I'd feared. They hadn't been ready to roost for the night when we left, and I knew that without the door closed to their coop, the electric net might not be enough. When Phil was moving the cows today, he saw a fox only a few yards away. We left, knowing that we might return bereft of mature birds. But we weren't!)

Speaking of tastes, I was thrilled today when I visited my Thai Red Roselle hibiscus plants in the greenhouse.

I've seen small buds for some time.

But now there are cherry-sized hibiscus flowers.

I eat them whole; they're a little tangy, and have a fun mouth texture (natural pectin), like a mild cranberry that grows in the south. The main ingredient in red zinger teas, Mother Earth News reports that research shows this hibiscus flower is as effective as brand name drugs at lowering blood pressure. Not that I have high blood pressure, but I like that "you can actually grow your own blood pressure medicine."

My bee garden is completely overrun with weeds. It depresses me so much, I harvest what I can. Dill for homemade cucumbers, basil to go in stir fries, an occasional tomato, or lemon balm to scent my water. Visually, the globe amaranth is much the best. So lovely.