Not mine.

I’ve been working at a friend’s. She wants a backyard redo. With veggies.

Graph paper and planning. Chats and sketches. Texts back and forth and back and forth. It was time. The first 4 cubic yards of compost delivered.

Thankful, these weeks, for outdoor distanced meditative work. Shoveling. Wheeling barrows of soil food. Over and over.

It’s time to order five more. And plants. Then mulch.

Is the landscape yard still open? Should they be?

The nursery is still open. I can’t gather my self to go.

We may end up, with the best laid plans. With life laid on thick. And come up short on starts.


They came anyway.

She painted it metallic pinks and purples. Covered it in foam sticker butterflies and hearts. We hung it on the fence and waited.

The rains came and the heat, too, and the paint started to peel. A sticker and then two and twenty washed away.

A few butterflies remain and today, she squealed a whispered jump for joy in my ear.

“They found it! Look, mama!”

Howdy, new neighbor. Make yourself at home.

Shifting times.

The obvious, obviously. But also the end of the broccoli, cabbage, and cauli and the start of the beans, squash, and corn.

I hope the Brussels stick around awhile. It’ll depend on the cabbage fly, I imagine.

I forgot when I sowed the potatoes and need to check so I know when to plan their replacements. Anyone remember?

The tunnel behind them is for the melon that still needs to sprout…

I’m not sure why I feel summers here don’t have the varieties winters do. Summers are fine with peppers, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, okra, southern peas, and Malabar spinach. Perhaps it’s the abundance of variety of greens that grow in the winters that feels different.

This mid-season for growing in Central Texas isn’t quite “spring” but will all die off before the dead center of summer. The melons, potatoes, beans, squash, corn, cucumbers, and others will have to run fast to beat the heat and don’t always make it. This is the season I still haven’t learned as intimately as I’d like. The moving target of climate change doesn’t help!

Long you’ve slept.

I’ve been dividing seeds to share. Finding and finding my seeds. I grew these once, (nearly if not) ten years ago.

Testing germination was a first for me. “Sow and see” was more for me. But these are for others. They might be counting on them. So sow and see has a new meaning.

Tiger eye beans are beautiful dried beans that taste akin to pinto. With more depth, as garden-grown food is known to do.

They’re an heirloom, as I try for most of my seeds to be, either officially or simply in age. If you’d like to grow some soup beans, I can’t recommend these enough for flavor, production, and now also I can say longevity of seed vitality. They’re on Seed Savers Exchange.

Help the helpers.

I was a Mr. Rogers Neighborhood kid. Hopefully a lot of the good lessons sunk in although I don’t consciously remember many of them.

The one I do remember is that during times of fear or cruel realities, to look for the helpers.

Right now, across the world, those helpers are the medical workers, caretakers, and all of the team in support of our hospitals, elder care, and food access.

And they don’t have the help they need. They don’t have the masks, shields, and other Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) that they need to stay healthy themselves. The items that would prevent them from falling ill, infecting others, or having to stop helping.

We all know these people. We usually know many of them personally. It’s my nephew. It’s my Sister-in-law. It’s my friend’s husband and it’s my cousin’s husband. It’s more than that and for you, it might be even closer to home. Or personal.

Politics aside on how it got this bad, we need to put our feelings (fear, anger, blame, worry, all of it) toward love, hope, and helping.

This came to me today from my dad:

And maybe you do sew. Or maybe you don’t, but you have a weirdly large supply of elastic. Or some random wire to share.

Or a 3D printer.

So today, I’ll be dusting off (literally) my sewing machine. And dusting off my sewing skills (figuratively) to make what masks I have supplies to make.

The more we help one another, the more help there is.


No, not those ones.

Not that one either.

The ones that did this:

Buried deep. Hopefully the stem hairs root in time.

Probably the same ones:

A wait and see game.

All this carnage right next to this beaut: