This moring, I spent attempting to organize the kitchen while Chris work on the garage/shop. Finley spent a good deal of her time petting the neighbor's donkey. She named him Frank.
After lunch, I planted a summer squash plant I brought with us in one of the flower beds around the trailer. The previous owner had used weed barrier fabric, which I hate. Beneath the fabric was thick clay soil. If the majority of the soil around here is like that, I have a lot of work ahead of me. Woven all through the flower beds was Burmuda grass. I had a small hope that Burmuda wouldn't be found here. No luck with that. Now I am thinking that I ought to get some plastic and solarize the areas I want to turn into gardens. That might save me a lot of work.
After planting the squash and a couple iris starts, I took the weed-eater to some thistle. Watching the flower heads explode and feeling their juicy flesh spray my face was strangely satisfying. After that, Finley, Joe, and I rode our bikes the 8/10ths of a mile up to the mailbox to check it. It was empty.
In the shower, washing weed guts off my legs, I discovered that I am developing a serious sock line. Yikes.
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