It was a good summer – dry, but good. My blueberries survived the drought but it took its toll on the trees, flowers, and vegetables, along with my personal hygiene. Water became rationed with stingy prudence when, during a shower, it seemed my well threatened to run dry as the pressure dropped from its usual uninspired flow to a mere dribble. From that point on showers were fast and doing laundry was rare. If you weren’t a blueberry plant your water allotment was meagre.
In the field, the intense dry heat radiated up from the clay earth, spreading warm contentment right into my marrow. Those were good days. I didn’t get many little nuggets of blue deliciousness this year but that’s ok. They will increase every year until full maturity at seven years. I will have a grand (soft) opening for family and friends in the summer of 2018.
In other news, my irrigation system in one field did not pass muster and I will have to redo it next year – as well as my deer fence gate post which broke when I clipped it with the tractor (note to self – almost enough room is not good enough). Later that same day, still speeding merrily along on my mechanical steed, I clipped the soffits and fascia of my garage with the tractors overhead roll bar. A combination of wood, nails and metal came crashing down on my head. The story of the tortoise and the hare teaches a good lesson and I would do well to take better heed. At the very least- I needed to get off the tractor.
I used to love winter as a kid growing up in the Northwest Territories where the days were dark, the cold was fierce and parkas and mukluks were warm. And while I still love the beauty and serenity of fresh snow in the field and white crystallized branches, I don’t love driving in freezing rain and trying to thaw pipes in my 125 year old uninsulated house that is impossible to heat.
Until next time, my valued blog readers, a Happy Christmas and a safe and healthy New Year to you and yours.