Holes

While taking the offer of sunshine and 69* temperatures yesterday - compromising with acceptance of the pesky chilly breezes - I managed to get out and clean up a portion of one of my flowerbeds.

Despite the pleasant warmth of the sun - the soil was a force to be reckoned with.  We have a blend that can become a problem - sandy - mixed with clay.  It is a clay used for making pottery - the most dense - the most infuriating for any gardener.

And that clay works hand in hand with - rock - the kind with a size for sitting upon - the kind that could challenge the macho of - several - 4x4 redneck pickup monster trucks.

( For those of you that have been to our place - Notice anything different ? )

You tread softly when this soil is totally soaked.  Mess with it too much - it breaks down to nothing but solid brick when it dries.  It will bring roots to the point of screaming - ear piercing sounds that come boiling from below the ground surface.  This broken-down clay brick rises - in jubilation - with a howling laughter that sends cows running for the barn - and their blankie - upon the sight of teardrops and fainting from lush flowering plants and shrubs.

And then the mind - totally consumed with gardening fears - wakes up from that nightmare - and waits for April 15th before planting anything in East Tennessee!

It’s as if winter had one last major round of pissing enough to soak the soil’s water table six feet deep.  And that only tells me one thing.  Mother Nature knows how to push my buttons.  And if she’s not careful - I will cover every inch of this ten acres with something that will fire back on her - and bless me ten-fold!

( Notice the tree between the barn and the front of the truck. )

It’s absolutely amazing - how much you can change a view - with a chainsaw.

It’s amazing how much a felled tree can save you money that would - otherwise - be spent on truckloads of fill-dirt!  Ah - but will it survive long enough to cover it up?

Or - will it meet with the wrath of swaggering rednecks holding aluminum cans in one hand - and matches in another - for a July 4th Bonfire?

We shall see.  We shall see.

For now - we take pleasure in knowing we are responsible for ridding this world of one more junk tree that only maintained a loyal friendship to the Woolly Aphid - major opponent doing great damage to the population of  those beautiful Eastern Hemlocks in our Great Smoky Mountains.

Take that, Mother Nature!

More brush and small trees were removed from the front area of our property to keep our main power line safe.  And Hubby put that little John Deere tractor-mower to the test out in the hay field.  I should have gone out there to shoot photos of that challenge.

We always keep the edge of the hay field mowed down for walking.  However - we had a round of growth following the second cut of hay - last year - that turned the entire field thick.  I can just imagine that tractor-mower looking like it was bouncing on a pile of pillows.

All in all - yesterday allowed us to get a few things accomplished - and went very well - until I got a phone call.  Not to worry - wasn’t the person that called, what-so-ever.  Love getting phone calls from that one!!!

Naw… it was the subject matter.  Sometimes - digging deep to grasp one’s sense of humor can rescue them from tears - even loads of tears - caused by holes - for a while - anyway.

But - it will be nice - when we - finally - get that tractor.

And it will be nice - when we get this barn moved....

from here...

and - from here...

to the other side of this hole - so we can fill it in and proceed with all our other plans.