Working in the Rain

It rained heavy in the night, although the slugs are not bothering my zucchini and potatoes anyway. My cisterns were all full and there was lots of water in the pond too. I drained the big barrel though, since it was tilting on its base, and then I did some work on insulating the door between the two parts of the cabin. Now it is much better insulated, although I’m not sure what difference that would make overall. I also hung the bow from Jono over the door to the greenhouse, just because there it is out of the sun and also so it is not just packed away somewhere. I did a bit of work on my hornbeam bow today too, but very little.

It was only this evening that I decided that I should put into action an idea I had for the metal box Chris gave me. I decided to use it as a kind of root cellar under the cabin so I began the procedure of installing it. That is fraught by concern, unfortunately, for I feel I have to work quickly lest the cabin fill up with mosquitoes. I thought I heard one earlier while I was listening to a program on CBC’s Ideas about Frederick the Second, but I don’t hear anything now. I’m going to finish the project tomorrow and then decide if I want to go to Fredericton then or Wednesday.

I am running low on food, but I certainly have enough to survive until Wednesday. Actually, food-wise, my dinner tonight was a blend of bread, hummus, and veggie pepperoni and some plants from the greenhouse. I put on some lettuce, beet leaves, and basil.

I’m looking forward to my zucchinis, but I wonder about my potatoes. Do they need to blossom to grow potatoes? Or is the blossom just for the fruit, the berries that grow on the plant? Maybe if I make an effort to grow food every year I’ll have a good garden at some point. I didn’t feel very ambitious, but I managed another couple of thousand words on the draft for Lost in the Tunnels. There are two movements yet to go, but I think I know where this middle book in the trilogy is going to end.

About Barry Pomeroy

I had an English teacher in high school many years ago who talked about writing as something that people do, rather than something that died with Shakespeare. I began writing soon after, maudlin poetry followed by short prose pieces, but finally, after years of academic training, I learned something about the magic of the manipulated word.
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