Laboring on the Fourth
You’d think it was Labor Day and not the Fourth of July for all the work we did today. I suppose a sunny day off makes us put on our small farm hats and deal with the tasks at hand. Today that meant working on the electric fence to keep one lamb—who is intent on jail break—in the proper place. And there were peas to pick and shell, chard to blanch and freeze, beets to harvest, lettuce to wash and eat before the heat turns it bitter.
This is what we wait for all year. Yet a snooze in the hammock sounded pretty appealing while I chopped rainbow chard.
Since I was in the laboring frame of mind I finally planted a Blue Moon Wisteria that I scored at a library plant sale back in late May. And since I was already into de-sodding and manure-scooping, I planted a peony and some spearmint too.
The mint is descended from Bunker Hill, my father’s childhood home. My patch was getting overrun with grass so I got new plants from my parents this week. Some people think of mint as invasive, but I hold it in the same esteem as wisteria and peonies. Especially Bunker Hill mint. The taste of childhood is priceless.
So now I am showered and feeling satisfied with the day’s efforts. My nod to the Fourth is the only red and blue combo I could scrape up in my wardrobe, but I’m quite satisfied with it. Maybe I’ll even take a snooze in the hammock before we head to Woodstock for a barbecue before the fireworks.