Slave to the Almanac

Well, here it is 5 pm.  What a day!  According to the almanac, yesterday and today were prime for root crops.  My garden isn't ready and I had church and the green team yesterday.  This morning, I had action items from the team meeting then I had to get Mom to the doctor for a surgical followup.  Then to the grocery store since we were in Wilmington.  Got home at 1 pm.

I immediately changed into grubs and went to the garden.  I buried one drip line, then dug trenches for two more.  Then I limed and tilled for two more rows.  Then I buried the other two drip lines.  So I had enough for three rows of onions and one more.  I need two more rows so I can put in my chiogga beets and my red beets and my potatoes.  Well, I don't have the potatoes from Johnny Seeds yet, but I do have my beets.  So if I want to put both rows of beets in today, I need to trench and bury and mound one more row.  In the meantime I planted the three rows of onion sets and watered them in.  My garden this year is coming in piecemeal, all because I am a slave to the Almanac!  It says plant, I plant.  It says weed, I weed.  It says transplant, I transplant.  It says jump, I say how high?

onions, onions everywhere...

Now here it is, 5 pm and the dogs are demanding their walk.  I know nothing is an emergency in the country, but betimes, things can get a might pressin'.

Ten to six.  I just can't DO it.  I can't get that last row put in so I can plant my beets.  I need wine.  I am whine and I need wine.  I wish I could just sit around on wooden eggs.  I wanna be a chicken.

But at least I lost two more pounds since ten days ago.

Bak Bak