Oh, gee, it’s nibbling my knee.
Oh, my, it’s up to my thigh.
Oh, fiddle, it’s up to my middle.
Oh, heck… it’s past my neck.
Is tasseling a verb?
The words are all a-jumble most of the day most days right now. When they arrange into a harmonic pattern, I listen and grab a pencil before the mirage shifts into sands again. Or something. You know. You know?
My youngest and I tested the size of the fingerlings last weekend. Adorable. Another week to this weekend and whatever size they are they’re coming out for Mother’s Day.
And would y’all tell the onions to hurry up? I don’t need the space but now I’m just worried they’ll cook or rot or dehydrate before the tops topple. (Toppling is definitely a verb.)
The popcorn is still shorter. It had a later start. It’s shading carrots and black-eyed peas.
The cherry tomatoes have started, the green beans have had their third harvest and we’re on about an every-other-day harvest there. No squash is making it larger than a pinky. It is pretty shady there… the cucumbers, too.
The Tiger Eye dry beans are setting but the mystery ones aren’t blooming yet.
Did you know you can eat cilantro flowers? They aren’t bitter like the leaves after the bolt. A little citrusy maybe.
I’m rambling. The calendula bloomed again. I’m drying the blossom. Maybe for tea. Along with the stevia, mint, and mullein for tea.
Ok ok. Back to your regularly scheduled scrolling.