I barely slept last night. I had to get up and have a bath in the middle of the night to try and help me relax...I'm still buzzing this morning. The last two days have been magical. It was a shear delight to have so many people in my garden, gardeners...most of them, taking the kind of time I had intended visitors to take. The grass this morning looks pretty trampled, but nothing a little seaweed treatment plus rain can't cure...and the only thing lost are the hundreds of names and faces flitting in and out of my consciousness. I've been fighting off a cold or allergies or both for the past week or so, that plus hubby's home brew have helped amalgamate the dream-state I'm in.
The
Datura pods are all gone now, but dozens remain on the two volunteer moon flowers left in the yard.
Leah, my newly acquired
Americana Chicken gave us a scare on Friday and we spent the better part of an hour with friends hunting her down. We found her hiding behind the Rooster mural in the coop. She stayed there all day Saturday, and is still there this morning. It's been
a very hard week for her, clearly she's exceptionally shy. Last week I had two Road Island Reds removed to the country. I'm going on 5 years with my coop and I'm still learning about the girls and their nature. The Red's were my first 'adult' purchase. All the other birds I've had came to me as pullets from friends, or I raised them from day old chicks. The Red's I got from Callahan's. They've been trouble from the beginning. They bonded and began pecking each other, then everyone else. Over the summer, they pecked two little Japanese Silkies to death. The little white one I have left, Blanca, had been in shock, brooding since then. When the Red's left, she got down on the ground and started right in on a dirt bath and gorged herself. She hadn't forgotten how to be a bird, nor had she forgotten what she'd seen them do, apparently.
A few years ago I heard Ira Glass's interview on "This American Life" about the chicken lady that invited him to her home because of a "bird-brained" comment he'd made on the air. She challenged him to stay with her and spend some time with her birds to dispel his 'ignorance.' He went, and shortly after the visit, became a vegetarian. I'm currently not a vegetarian, since July...but have given up meat more times in my life to count and was able to do the vegan plan for just under 2 years, before my girls were born. Dorothy, my Boston Terrorist killing machine was the impetus for the last time...I figured if I stopped eating chicken (and all other meat) I could sort of make up for her terrier nature. I couldn't bring the girls back, but between my abstinence and our aggressive tactics I was attempting to balance the scales...don't ask me why I engage in such frivolous mental gymnastics...what else am I to do while working hours at a time in total silence involved in the sometimes numbing monotony of pruning and weeding? I digress, back to Leah, and what I've learned...they are all unique. Each bread and each bird. The reason I got a Road Island Red is because of a friend who went to School in Providence insisted that they are the coolest, and without checking...because I hadn't had a mean bird yet, got the first one that came my way...then what the heck? Got her a friend to boot! The young boy of 10 that took them is in 4-H, he has 40 hens, 3 roosters, ducks, turkey's and Guinea fowl. He assured me that Reggie, his big Road Island Red Rooster, would straighten my girls out. His mother blushed, and we all knew what that meant. I'm an urban hobby-farm girl, I could learn a lot from this young man. I wonder if he'd like a 44 year old apprentice?
The Beer Garden survived the hoards of fondlers, I was genuinely afraid that one of the bottle-cap snakes would come down on someones head...as the wind will sometimes cut one loose and crush a tender green below. But nay, all went well. Whew.
The little hub-cap caterpillar on the fence isn't' as long as I had hoped it would be, but I only started collecting them road-side a year ago...hopefully she'll stretch the length of the cyclone fence one day.
This is the gateway to my
Visual Playground, where I allow my inner child to romp and giggle. Most of the folks I spoke to enjoyed this area the most...as do I.
This is the only shot I got at the beginning of the day...at no time were there less than 50-60 folks in the garden! I wish my girls would have been home to see it, people loving the yard that exasperates them. I guess it's my fault for assigning 'poop-patrol' and 'compost duty' though occasionally they'll come out to have hot-chocolate and sit by the fire.
Randy had the forethought to print out a 'before' shot of his garden for folks to see. Well, here's mine. The wee girl with the pink hat now towers over me and I'm pretty sure those who came can see the difference Conscious Gardening, for 13 years now has made.
Okay, I'm going to grab a mimosa and head out to harvest my garden...there is pesto to be made, beans to be snapped, jalapenos to be pickled and a new winter plan to undertake!
A million thanks to the visitors and especially the Travis County Master Gardeners awesome group of Volunteers for helping me pull this gig off!
Happy Gardening!
In honor of my uncle's Frank and Chuck, who both loved a stiff drink and a good meal, I've decided to post a recipe of my favorite Dia de los Muertos meal which includes both liquor and an herb most abundant in Texas gardens, blooming now...oregano.
