Saturday, April 29, 2017

387 Growing Degree Days (B42) report

I don't know if it is the tag end of my chest cold or allergies, but I fall asleep when I stop moving.

Mrs ERJ has been picked up the slack.  Belladonna has a bunch of things going on in Allendale (near Grand Rapids, about 90 minutes away).  Mrs ERJ has been the point of the spear while I have been staying home.

"Do you know what your husband is doing when you are in Grand Rapids?"  I can tell you what he is doing.  He is eating sardine-and-onion sandwiches and roto-tilling the garden.

Just because I am not driving doesn't mean I am not working.  It just means I cannot sit down without falling asleep.

While I was outside, I noticed my shoe was untied.  I propped my foot up on the water tank and was tying my shoe when I noticed an unusual shape.


It was necessary for me to call my brother and tell him about my find.  I knew he was out in the woods looking for these rascals.  He asked where I was finding them.  I told him, orchards where apple trees had died and where the sun was hitting the ground.


May God forgive me, but I cannot see what is so special about these mushrooms.  People look at me as if I were handicapped, as if I could not hear any sound over 400 Hz.  "You don't know what you are missing!!!  You have never really heard Beethoven's Ninth Symphony!!!!!"  Well, neither had Beethoven.

The irony is my brother is spending hours and hours looking for them.  I trip over them and leave them to sporulate.

Tilling the garden
I am about two weeks behind schedule.  I like to get the first pass done by the middle of April so I can make a second pass around May first and start planting.
This is the "south" garden.

A couple of "before" photos.  Nettles.  Canadian Thistle.  Quack Grass.
Three hours later

My audience.
Dealing with encroaching raspberries
This is the northwest corner of the "south" garden.  I lost about 10' in front of this barn. 
It is mostly due to the raspberry bushes.  I have a tough decision to make.  Whack back the raspberries and recover the real estate or let the raspberries win.  I like eating raspberries but dislike picking them.

The correct answer is to move a few of the bushes to a more appropriate place and to recover the space.

A pleasant surprise
Mrs ERJ will be pleased.  She is addicted to asparagus and I am her dealer.  It might be an unfair advantage on my part, but homely fellows like me need every bit of help we can muster.

1 comment:

  1. Ahh, Morels. Here in Wi. we find them under dead elms just as the bark starts to slip. Great fried with butter.

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