Last week started out snake-bit and ended up just perfect, which goes to show that rolling with the punches works. On Monday, I took my car into Richfield to get an oil change and then to have my collision shop install one tiny piece that came in late. The big brand oil change and tire place seemed to forget I was waiting in the tv room, when I finally went to check they had “just finished” it as they fished my keys out 6″ deep in a foot high stack of paperwork. Yeah right.
Having plotted a course modeled after the UPS approach of making only right turns where possible, I dropped off some donations at the thrift store and then scooted over the the body shot. A job that was going to take “just twenty minutes” turned into an electrical diagnostics problem that went on until closing time and I left with car, with rear wiper but she no function. I’ll have to go back. The orange big box home improvement store had only crap hose nozzles…Walmart was Walmart-weird, and after one more stop…now I’m whining. I got back safely. R made dinner. None of it mattered. We’re all good here at the ranch.
The weekend was much more fun with Torrey Apple Days. I took myself Friday night to the veterans memorial fundraising dinner and hung out with my neighbors. R was stuck in SLC by then, his last official day at work. He sanely chose not to drive down on the Friday before a holiday weekend. Saturday was the big day. First the parade, then music. We could have gone to the food booths, farmers’ market and the dance, if we’d wanted to. R wanted to practice his guitar for his debut on the Entrada stage.
Husbandry and gardening: the Rachio irrigation system is working great. I attempt to weed a couple beds right after watering or first thing in the morning. In years past, I’ve been close to giving up on the weeds by mid-July, but R put weed barrier and mulch in the garden paths and it is much more pleasant to work out there now. Wyatt helps by standing under me and licking my face. I made one last attempt to replant beans, basil and Brussels sprouts. If they don’t make it, we’ll have to do without–we are already only 13 weeks to frost. The turkey poults are going outside during the afternoons and loving it. I’m hoping that we can get them out of the garage before the 15th.
Food, harvest and preserving: I garden for the week the peas come in. We only have about 10′ of row this year, and I made the most of them, froze some for winter risotto and made a pasta with the rest. The zucchini just started to flower, so the eating should be good until the frost. I gave R the very first cherry tomato as a retirement present (I’m using that as long as I can get away with it).
Energy and conservation: putting air in your tires does amazing things for gas mileage. I should remember that more often.
Community: I helped line up the entries in the parade. Actually, I mostly helped block traffic on the street where the line-up was taking place because the road barricades weren’t doing the job. At the last minute, R drove up and we both hopped on the Entrada Institute’s entry, an almost dilapidated fire truck one of the board members owns and keeps running just for the parade. He mentioned something about a paint job on it; R was advocating for cherry red metal flake.
Creativity and recreation: Torrey Apple Days!
Next week: we go to Salt Lake toward the end of the week for festivities to celebrate R’s retirement with a Red Butte Garden concert sandwiched in. Until we go, we will catch up on lots of little projects and tidying up to make room for R’s full-time residency at the bunkhouse.
Seasonal observations: the big fire at Brian Head sent smoke our way a couple different times, once turning the sun scarlet red. The barn swallows seem to be settling on their nests but we haven’t heard any chipping babies yet. Lots of things started blooming: leeks and shallots, the first false salsify and zucchini squash. The cheat grass is starting to head up, which means the county poison truck should be out spraying soon. Bindweed is climbing and the tumbleweeds are a foot high already. So is the corn, not quite “knee high by fourth of July” but close enough. Who knows how much they will grow in two more days, but it’s not like corn patches keep a strict calendar. Neither would we, except for the irrigation schedule keeps us honest. Carson will be happy – his wound has finally healed and he can play in the ditch when we take our turn on Independence Day.