I got out to the corn this morning and what did I see but two of my neighbors in there weeding today’s row. I have been trying to get one eighty foot row done per day, my quota. So the three of us got the quota done in no time.
So, now it is later in the day and I need to get going here in a few minutes to watch the fireworks in the harbor. They are pretty darn spectacular for a little dinky place like here. There is a few anonymous high rollers that chip in for that. There is a big barge that they tow in that has the whole show onboard and the guy in charge fires it off remotely. It’s all happening over the water, safety first or wait a minute isn’t down to third now. I’ll have to check.
Have to mention that we had a great visit yesterday afternoon from a group from Spokane that came to walk and be with us. Nice folks, we had fun. Six all together so there was eight of us at tapas. They brought food and wine. All kinds of folks make it in here if they are carrying bags from Trader Joe’s.
It feels like Sunday today but no it is Tuesday. I am off to the hospital tomorrow for my 99th treatment. I’m having too much fun out on the ranch for that monkey business but oh well. Jessika is taking me. Let see we are going to stop at Target for jeans and Trader Joe’s for wine and olives.
There a bunch of robins in the cherry tree over my head hungry after the fruit. They are dropping debris on me and shaking the leaves that block the sun. They got a little light show going across the screen of my iPad. Another case of Wild Kingdom.
Well, that is Fourth of July here, celebrating the birth of our nation. Thanks for being with us. Red, white and blue loves, Felipe.
Your corn. Straight rows. Uniform spacing. Uniform growth. Weed free.
Sheeesh. I feel like the kid with his first coloring book, “Lines? What lines?”
I have had cowbirds show up. When the seedlings toss out their first leaves, the cowbirds just walk down the row and pull up each plant, pick of the kernel and move to the next. The row looks like a Road Runner cartoon where the car zooms around a corner and clips off a hundred telephone poles and the all land neatly in a row, tops all pointed outward, on the ground right next to where they were standing.
I replanted a couple of times. Seems the T-Tape irrigation hose serves as one lane blacktop for them– walk down the road and pick off the corn. They’re just getting fatter, I’m out of seeds. There’s aparble in there somewhere.
Still looking…
Steve-O ~ there is always a parable, yes. Cowbirds have another strike against them in that they deposit their eggs in nests of other species of birds and Bob’s their uncle. They just eat your corn and hang at the tavern. But it’s all the weird and wacky Wild Kingdom. If it’s not one thing it’s another. I’m holding things back with 160 feet of electric fence. So far so good. Phil.
Ok–
“…pick OFF the kernel…”
“…and THEY all land neatly…”
“…there’s a PARABLE in there somewhere…”
(Fat fingers rule my life.)
See it’s inspiring poetry.