We Persevere

 Here's what's going on in Mr. Moon's potato bags. The way it works is that as the plants get taller, you add more soil which ensures, I suppose, that the potatoes are all down where they're supposed to be. I don't know. As I've said before, I've been gardening for almost fifty years and I feel like I know nothing about how to do it. Well, beyond the basics of soil, and mulch, and enriching the dirt, and sun, and water. But I am quite excited to see what sort of a potato harvest we get this year. 
I took a walk today. It was almost noon before I left the house but it wasn't that warm yet. It did eventually get up to 78° on the back porch later on in the afternoon, but it hasn't felt like evil heat by any means. 
Not looking forward to that. 

I walked by Harvey's. His yard is looking rough. Not sure what the deal is. He appears to acquired a truck that as far as I can tell is just parked and not being driven at all. He naps in the front seat with his legs and feet sticking out the driver's side door. See what I mean about Harvey and his privacy? He has none. When I was walking west to the county line, he was talking to someone in a truck that I guess did drive and he and the other guy both waved at me. On my way back, the guy in the truck was just leaving and I am never sure of the protocol of waving twice. You know what I mean? But Harvey gave me one of his arms-outstretched-to-the-sides-and-then-up waves and I said, "How you doing?" and he said he was fine. He smiles so big when he gives that wave. I always appreciate that. 

The robins have been visiting today. This time of year they fly in and rest for awhile and eat whatever it is they eat off the ground or from the ground and then they resume their travels. They cheer me. 

Mr. Moon's had a hard day. He started early on the phone with Lily, trying to figure out the best way to do house financing so she could make an offer on the house. This involved far more of the sort of thing than I can ever imagine doing. I think back to when I was a twenty-five year old, recently divorced mother of two in nursing school and I bought a house with some money that I had thankfully inherited, and I have no idea how I did that. None. I was in such a deep depression in those days that there's a great deal I do not remember. I do recall that I had a wonderful realtor who took me under her wing and guided me through the process. That was a sweet little house, and turned out to be such an excellent investment, especially after Glen and his daddy added a bedroom and bathroom and new deck to it. 
It looks like the house we looked at yesterday may not be Lily and Lauren's house. Someone has already made an offer on it- a good one- and it's been accepted. So. 
It really would have been a sort of miracle if they'd gotten the first house they looked at. It was already a sort of miracle that it was so suitable to their needs. 
But I know that Lily's depressed and so is her daddy. 
Seems like life just keeps on shaking its tail feathers at you whether you want to dance or not. 

I took a picture of the blueberry blossoms this afternoon.

Sweet little bell-blossoms. 

And probably for the first time ever I actually looked at the bloom on the cherry laurels which as far as I'm concerned are true trash trees. The birds poop out their seeds everywhere and they are all over the place. But my god! The flowers look otherworldly!

They almost look like a form of sea coral to me. All these years I've been walking right by them, never noticing, never appreciating the strange beauty of them. 

I decided to try and finish clearing up the little piece of ground by my driveway that I spent some days on months ago. 
I swear to god. I'm about to give up. Just when I think I've seen every sort of invasive plant that can grow in this yard, I find another. Or two or three. The latest one to make its appearance is what we now call Wandering Dude. I, however, will be calling it small-leaf spiderwort, which is another name for it. It's growing all UP in that space, along with plenty of new croscomia that I didn't get up earlier. I knew I hadn't. It's impossible. So I spent about forty-five minutes yanking out border grass that has the spiderwort all intertwined in it. I did not finish the job because Mr. Moon called for some paperwork information and I decided that that was enough of that. 

That border grass is a bitch to dig up and yank out. And it spreads like wildfire here too. This is a contest I can never win. You should see what's on the other side of the fence which I also cleared out last year. 

Bitch, bitch, bitch. I am being bitchy and I know it. But I am grateful for the rain we got last night and are supposed to get more of tomorrow because the beans will be so happy. I know it's too early but I've already been checking to see if they're poking out of the ground yet. Soon. They will be soon. 

I am listening currently to a book I've been "meaning" to read for a long time. "The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks" by Rebecca Skloot. Dear Liz at Field and Fen inspired me to finally take up that book when she said she was reading it and I am so glad she did. I knew who Henrietta Lacks was, and I knew the barest of bare bones about her seemingly immortal cells which were harvested without her permission in the early 1950's which have absolutely changed the world of science and medicine while meanwhile, her children and their children have lived in poverty. But there is so much I did not know and Skloot has done an excellent job of helping the world to not only come to know who Henrietta Lacks was, but also to understand a little bit more of the science behind her remarkable cells and how they have changed the world. 

And here's a little funny thing. Levon and August's school is sponsoring a fund-raising event. No candy-selling, no gift wrapping, just- hey can you give us money?
I am behind that a 100%. So the kids had to make a list of the top ten people they thought would donate in their name. Here's August's list:

It's official- I'm the biggest pushover in the family. Glen said he and August were discussing this yesterday and August told him, "You can donate a thousand dollars," and his Boppy said, "No I can't." 
Good try, August!

One more thing. A picture of Magnolia June getting her hair washed by Miss Melissa before she got her hair cut. 

Is that joy or what? 

Love...Ms. Moon