Pushing

I have been working hard the last few weeks, with no down-time. I had thought that maybe while the family was away I would have some quieter, slower-paced days, and had looked forward to it with yearning, but the list rapidly multiplied. I’m trying to ride the log jam and not panic.

I spent yesterday fencing in the back field between downpours and thunderstorms. The cows have eaten all the available grass in the fenced sections and I had to get them onto new ground. (My plan is to mow the weeds left behind them but there has been no time. The field is 85% inedible matter, mostly goldenrod, that must be knocked down before it goes to seed. Perhaps next weekend.)

In the heat and humidity the black flies and deer flies swarmed so badly I could barely breathe without inhaling them. Time for the bug shirt! This item looks so ridiculous that I had to try to take a selfie with my camera.

 

However, being draped in bug netting was effective and I was able to work peacefully for hours, soaked to the skin from the intermittent rain and from walking through the thigh-high wet weeds — but not losing my mind to the whine of biting flies.

Despite the time pressure I appreciated the beauty. Small birds flitted through the weeds, and hopped up to watch me from the top of posts I had just erected. Once I heard a downpour approaching, a loud rushing sound like wind in the trees, blowing in from the north for minutes before it actually drenched me.

By 7:30 PM the skies had cleared and I had half the fence up.

I got it finished and the cows turned out just as the sun set around 9 PM.

I walked and fed the dogs at 9:15, peeled off my wet jeans, kicked off my squelching boots, and sat down to my supper at 9:30.

Now it is morning and I’m heading to chores. Our fabulous friend Gary arrives at 8 AM.