Shoveling Sh*t in the rain

Yesterday I spent much of my supposed last day on earth (some crazies have predicted this based on some ancient calendar somewhere) shoveling cow poop in the rain, slogging around in the mud from trailer to garden with a one-handled (ask Hubby about that) wheelbarrow. Thank goodness the predicted apocalypse did not yet arrive, as I'm not sure God would have let me in yesterday, at least without a shower to wash all the manure off. But all in all, it was a spectacular day! We have the boxes all filled and ready to plant!:

Soggy, but triumphant.

The Girl helped us for a while today before the rain really got going, then we finished up while she napped.

Notice how sunny it is in this picture? The rain quit and the sun came out just as we finished the dirty work, of course.

We also got the Girl's sandbox installed and filled, and a little stone path laid to it from the patio. Today I used my sad little broken wheelbarrow again to move some wood chips into the muddy paths so I can walk in between the boxes without sinking. Later, we'll topdress with some more attractive mulch but for now it'll do just fine.

Potager planting plans to come soon!

Oh, and also, in a fit of energy I attacked the raspberry patch and gave it a long overdue overhaul. I hadn't cleaned out the old canes since at least before the Girl was born on account of my preoccupation with mommyhood and before that just the general pregnancy-fat-and-lazy excuses, I guess. It was a refreshing process and I would have taken a before photo if I wasn't so ashamed of how it used to look. Seriously, there were trees growing in it. Here's the after photos:

You can actually see through the row now, wowza!

Um, yeah, the patch used to be as wide as the dirt area where the shovel is...slightly out of control, no?

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Broccoli Land Speed Record

I'm behind in posting my seed starting progress. On Wed, March 16th, about 8 weeks till last predicted frost, I started my pepper seeds. I planted two cells of Jalapeno, two of green bell peppers and 5 of the colorful Carnival Mix bells. I always plant 2-3 seeds per cell and then thin to the strongest survivor. So they are all up and happy now: I was planning to start my tomato and broccoli seeds a week ago on Tues, March 29th (6 weeks till last frost) but didn't get around to it until Friday, April 1st. Close enough. Mother Nature's behind this spring too if you ask me. It snowed last week, for pete's sake! Last night, I went down to water and check on things, and the Romanesco Broccoli seeds are already up! That's got to be a broccoli land speed record, right? Three days? The package says they emerge in 10-21 days so I am feeling pretty dang good about my wicked horticultural skillz. Here's a pic of my eager little broccoli seedlings:

Try it

While many folks have started New Year’s Resolutions for 2022, I have been looking for My Word. Admittedly, I could use improvements along the lines of traditional resolutions like getting more exercise, eating less sweets, or managing money well, but I also know myself enough to know I don’t and won’t abide by these just because we hang a new tally sheet on the wall indicating the reset of the annual cycle. What I love about a new year is the excuse for a pause. A practically mandated time set aside for nostalgic self-reflection! This looking back, along with the hopeful feeling of potential for what is to come is an enjoyable tradition for me (I’m blessedly past the stage of loud, boozy, people-y New Year’s Eve parties). Yes, instead of traditional resolutions, I’ve adopted a more recent trend of choosing a word to focus on for the upcoming year. I find self-improvement goals for a new season easier to remember if I settle on a word or phrase that is lately on my heart.

Stay Wild

Deep Breath. Here goes. And it’s gonna be sweary. You’ve probably heard the phrase “Life begins at 40”. I’m there. I’m a few years into the decade, but already deep in the vibe. A shift is happening, and my mind is blown by the “aliveness” of it all. Here’s how it happened: I’m a woman, wife, mom, daughter, sister, friend, entrepreneur, creative dreamer. I was also recently diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), primarily Inattentive Type. “WTF”, you ask? I know. Don’t get me started; I’m still getting used to it myself, and it’s a long, complicated story filled with questions, doubt, research, doctors, naysayers, anger, acceptance, and lots and lots of hope (repeat). It’s a fucking revelation . Here I am, at age 43, wondering why I’ve always felt anxious, socially awkward, misunderstood, and possibly legit crazy. I have been questioning myself for years. Decades. Trudging through life, wearing (too) many hats, grasping at fulfillment, and still

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