Mr. Moon is going to fuss because the light is not right in this picture but he can fuss all he wants because have you ever seen a cuter picture?
Jessie and her daddy have spent all day, building that gate and stretching wire for a fence. They are making me a house for my garden. That's how I feel about it somehow. That after six years here, I am going to have a REAL garden with fence all the way around it to grow peas and beans on, to keep out vicious predators (okay, chickens) and that we'll be able to decorate the way we want.
Yes. I want to decorate the garden.
I want the kids to come out and help me paint the fence. There is a board in it for each of the children, for Mr. Moon and me, and one for Owen. His may have to wait a while because although he is smart and dexterous and strong, he is only five months old.
I want to make a little brick patio where the gate opens. I want to have a place where my chicken shit composts and where my leaves are stored for mulch. I want to grow vegetables and I want to grow zinnias and marigolds. Prosaic, beautiful things which I have been growing almost my entire adult life, but now maybe better.
Perhaps I shall put a toad pond in the way I did when we lived in town. I sunk a half of a whiskey barrel and filled it with water and put a water lily in it for toads to drink from. Toads are good for the garden. They eat the bugs and they are beautiful in their ugliness.
I don't know what all I'll do but isn't it going to be beautiful?
Aren't I a lucky Mama-Wife?