My husband is in St. Thomas, but I raked where he mowed with the tractor two days ago and used it as mulch.
Juliet and Celebration tomatoes, basil, kale, black zucchini, pickling cucumbers, dill, mariachi peppers, cayenne peppers, and weeding and mulching, and thinning the carrots and spinach and lettuce. That was today.
The chickens are in a wire cage now. They fly onto my arms when I open the cage door. They are as light as a feather but sparking with life.
The sun comes up now at 5:09 a.m. Birds will sing an hour before that.
Fog, then cool and cloudy. It never really warmed up like it was supposed to, until very late in the day, and then 20 minutes later a real mystical fog rolled in. All day that east wind and ocean smell. Plus cars and motorcycles and people frantic for Memorial Day weekend. I could hear them but not see them.
I was on my knees for about 6 hours, privileged to involve myself in the future.
Blogging will be lite for the time being. I broke my laptop.
One of the Australorps.
In a few months, she will be all black and her feathers will have a purplish sheen.
An Australian breed developed from the English Orpington, Australorps are generally large, hardy, docile and one of them holds the title of Most Eggs Laid (in a year, I think).
It’s been raining every day for about a week now, sometimes torrentially, sometimes mistily. Cool temps. The outdoors is intensely green. Everything is waiting for the sun.
New Hampshire Reds are born yellow.
My day-old chicks arrived in the mail today. Two each of three breeds: New Hampshire Reds, Australorps, and Barred Plymouth Rocks. They are supposed to turn out to be hens, but sexing new chicks is an art not a science.
For a couple of weeks they will live in this plastic bin under a heat lamp, in my study. Since I haven’t been writing much lately, I might as well have chickens.
Post office called just after lunch and I went to pick them up. They arrived healthy and full of vim. I dipped a couple beaks in water, then they all copied and drank – important to hydrate right away so their little butts don’t paste up. They are the most precocious baby animals I have ever seen – instinctive little survivors. (Baby Chick Care.)
Gotta go watch them some more. I feel like Jane Goodall.
Jennifer Rubin on Paul Ryan’s speech at the Economic Club of Chicago today:
The speech is remarkable in several respects. First, Ryan is exceptionally civil to the president, who had been remarkably uncivil to him in the George Washington University speech. He acknowledges that the president inherited a mess and that the budget failure was bipartisan. And then he largely ignores him. He is arguing for principles that conflict with the president’s, not against the president personally. Liberals want civil discourse? This is it.
In a sense, this is the model of modern conservatism first championed by William F. Buckley Jr. and transformed into a governing mandate by Ronald Reagan. It is optimistic, cheerful, gracious and reasoned. It is based on a belief in markets and individual liberty, not on the wisdom of government planners.
From Ryan’s speech (full text here):
Class warfare may be clever politics, but it is terrible economics. Redistributing wealth never creates more of it. … Sowing social unrest and class envy makes America weaker, not stronger. Playing one group against another only distracts us from the true sources of inequity in this country – corporate welfare that enriches the powerful, and empty promises that betray the powerless. . . .
If we succumb to this view that our problems are bigger than we are – if we surrender more control over our economy to the governing class – then we are choosing shared scarcity over renewed prosperity, and managed decline over economic growth. That’s the real class warfare that threatens us – a class of governing elites picking winners and losers, and determining our destinies for us.
Yes. (Read the whole thing.)