And A Cow Plowed Through It

God grant me the serenity to accept the loose cow at the top of my driveway
The courage to chase the damn thing away
And the wisdom, speed and agility to run if I have to.

The disturbances continue. Orange tag.

So I walked back down to the house to call my farmer and when I returned the cow was coming down my driveway. It was me, the cow and a truck blocking its escape route.

Shoo cow. Shoo.

So it plowed right through the roadside vegetable garden. Several tomato cages were dislocated.

But praise be, the finest okra patch I have ever grown was spared.

At dinner this evening Bulbarella says, "I saw a cow walk by my kitchen window this morning."

Oh dear Lord. Did the cow stomp through the garden?

No. It wandered out to the back forty and headed into the forest.

Hmmm? I wonder if the farmer found his cow? Ohmm.

Last night I decided to hire myself out as a gardener to Bulbarella's broken boyfriend. He'll need time for his bones to heal. I designed and planted the bulk of his garden so I know what it needs. It is a much smaller and tidier version of the Tall Flower Meadow planted as a trap to lure in bugs for him to capture, kill and add to his collection.

My bugs are safe. I am also happy to report that the loose cow did not stomp through the Tall Flower Meadow.

I wonder if my farmer found his cow. The last thing I need is a feral cow colony just beyond the back forty making foraging excursions into the gardens.

It has felt all week like I am surrounded by evil forces intent on stomping the Tall Flower Meadow before my open garden day on Saturday. I have been having to put up my shields and fend them all off. After work today I tidied up the mess the tree trimmers left along Bulbarella's driveway. Once I got in there they were down graded to a C for cleanup. I can't fix the stompage.

Let's not mention the weather. So far it has been most cooperative.

It could just be pre-show jitters, but I have done this often enough that I don't really fret over the garden itself. Outside forces are much more concerning.

Right now it looks fabulous and only needs to get through three more days intact.

I will be even happier if it remains intact until the first of November when the tree trimmers return.

Then, God grant me the serenity to accept barbarians in my garden

The courage to supervise and direct the cleanup crew

And the wisdom to restrain my sharp tongue and replace it with kindness.

Gaze Upon A Meadow

There is a great disturbance in the equilibrium. It started Monday morning at 6:30 am with some horrendous motorized mechanical noise headed straight towards my house. I thought a plane was about to crash. No, it was the tree trimmers warming up their chipper just down the road.

They have been chopping and dropping all around me as close as they can get without me having a fit. My poor neighbor across the byway. They get a D- for cleanup.

Stare into a blooming meadow. Ohmm. It is safe until November.

I was already unsettled headed to work Monday morning when I was stopped on the byway by a motorcycle/car collision. It was a side swipe crash. Somebody hogged the center line on sharp curve. Not only were the tree trimmers too close for comfort, I had learned over the weekend that a wonderful human being and old friend from my formative years as an adult was in hospice and about to leave due to cancer. Such sad news.

Ohmm. Look into the blooming meadow.

Yesterday the tree trimmers had chopped across the byway where the utility line exits the sunny utility meadow on the neighbors side. They get a C- for cleanup and were forced into that because they couldn't block the highway.

Today I came home and they had chopped up Bulbarella's driveway. Oh crap, crap, crap. Now I have to clean and fluff all this before the open garden day on Saturday. They get a B- for cleanup there. Despite its wild character, it is a private driveway and the freshly mowed paths they used to toss the rubbish from must have indicated the notion of garden. Still, it was a half assed B-. My maintenance gardener self was not pleased.

Gaze upon a meadow. Ohmm.

There are other helpful things that can be done when stressed other than just staring into space. A package arrived in the mail on Monday. I may have ordered some Louisiana Iris, in particular Clyde Redmond. The Black Widow slipped into the order and I got a bonus Tchoupitoulas.
CHOP-ah-too-lus,
CHOP-ah-too-luh.
SHOP-ah-too-liss.
CHAP-ah-too-luh.
Take your pick of pronunciation.

So I tucked my new iris into the meadow.

The bonus Chop-a-tulip also found a home. I really had no idea where any of them were going when I ordered them. You know how that goes.

If the Loisiana Iris "Black Gamecock' is any indication, the new iris should like it here just fine. They were grown in New York so my cold will feel just fine.

The rotten log iris department was already full with Japanese, Louisiana, the Black bearded iris divisions and a crinum. This may need to be rethought. The log is almost gone and I don't need a line of iris in the middle of the Great Lawn. I just might be forced into making a proper bed for them.

While I was grumbling at dinner about the mess the tree trimmers left, Bulbarella was telling me she had not been able to reach her boyfriend for two days and was concerned about his welfare.

Ohmm.

She had been calling every few hours and no one answered and the machine was off. She called one more time after dinner. Ok. Let's go check on your boyfriend.

Gaze upon a blooming meadow.

Oh dear Lord. The man was mowing his lawn and fell off a seven foot high wall on to the driveway below. He broke ribs, a collar bone, maybe some vertebrae and was flown to a hospital in Johnson City, Tennessee. Oh dear Lord. Bulbarella's boyfriend is broken.

Ohmmm.

Those tree trimmers better not come anywhere near me until November now that everything around us is done. It could be dangerous.

Immersion

When I move slowly and absorb the smallest detail, the rest of the world slips away.

I see the first hint of fall in the changing leaves of a Cornus alternifolia. This morning's cool temperature suggested the same thing.

Late season path mowing is a much easier chore. Time is left over to inspect my work.

Time is left over to move at a snail's pace and to find a crawfish strolling the freshly mowed path. I assisted him into the stream.

When I stand still the life buzzing all around me comes into focus.

There is a feast happening on the Angelica gigas.

Bumblebees in particular park themselves on the cauliflower tops.

At times they seem to become drunk on the nectar.

Immersed in the meadow the world passes me by.

I can truly get lost in the roadside vegetable garden. Bent over while harvesting, I am invisible to the travelers passing by.

The vegetable garden is tucked inside a walled room made of meadow.

Where the tall ironweed grows.

Once you enter, I would suggest moving slowly. Absorb the details. Let the rest of the world slip away.

Open Garden Day

I was out there doing path maintenance for next Saturday's open garden day when the skies let loose. I wanted a good rain. It has been on the dry side. After yesterday's shower it was still dry as a bone beneath the trees. It takes a good rain to penetrate the forest canopy. Otherwise all that water gets stuck up there unless a good wind shakes it out.

I wanted a good rain, not a hard rain. A hard rain at this point has the potential for leaving an unwanted lasting impression on the Tall Flower Meadow. The meadow must remain perky for another week. So far so good. A decent amount of water has fallen without any undue bending. The Angelica is still standing.

The Angelica is more sturdy than a lot of the other wild flowers that make up the meadow.

They would be the last to bend. And there is a mighty fine crop of Angelica blooming this year. This is a self sowing biennial so the show varies from year to year. Would you like to see it? Come Take a Walk on the Wild Side this Saturday.

There is a mighty fine crop of Ironweed in the roadside vegetable garden. I really need to do something about that. My fine produce wants the sunlight it is stealing. I can harvest the seeds at least before I get ruthless.

It's a mighty fine meadow that is still a couple of weeks away from peak bloom.

Very soon the asters will join in. You'd have to come back to see that.

I can finish my path maintenance tomorrow after it dries out again. Weed whacking wet is just nasty. I had already walked the entire three acres cutting floppage over the paths to get ready for the mowing. There isn't much left to do. The rest of the weekend can be spent admiring.

One Pole Down

The next pole down the utility line from the one next to my driveway is a long way off due to a significant drop in elevation. It is way beyond standard issue pole spacing. That is where the utility's maintenance man said they would stop chopping until November.

I intervened in the nick of time. As of today they have chopped to that pole. I don't know if they started at the bottom and the plan was to only give us a few days notice or if they were starting at the top and headed down. I do know the down part over that top ridge line is seriously down, wickedly down. I wouldn't want to climb up or go down it and certainly not with a chainsaw in hand.

The Tall Flower Meadow was saved. Come November I will have to work on saving baby trees and shrubberies from falling limbs and debris extraction. There will be more discussions with the utility company's maintenance crews. There will be no chop and drop. I have even considered offering myself to work with the crew.

This is the first Angelica gigas to bloom in my part of the meadow. I grew it from seed in a pot then planted it out. The plan is for it to become a self sowing population. Now that it is not in danger of getting squashed, it will have a chance to set seed. They are biennials so it will be two years before I see blooms again in my part of the garden. Hopefully I will see plenty babies next spring.

There is a lot of yellow happening in the meadow right now.

I'll be doing path maintenance over the entire three acres of wild cultivated gardens this weekend before the open garden day next Saturday. That's about all I do to get the garden ready for visitors. There will be no weeding or any other such nonsense.

The next pole down is also pretty much the No Spray beyond here boundary. It is finally turning green after three years. I expect it will get sprayed again shortly now that a fresh chop has been done.

The second pole down is the lazy ass locals toss it over the side garbage dump. I try not to look that far down the line when it is all brown and littered with multi-colored garbage. The very next pull off down the road is also used as a garbage dump. There was a TV parked there this week.

I can see myself down there one snowless winter day bagging it all up. My view is going to be significantly more open and looking at all that garbage will make me nuts.

I like pretty.

Even when it is wild and chaotic.

Last year the Tall Flower Meadow got bent and never stood back up around this time by an act of the wet and wicked heavens. I had to accept that.

I can accept that the utility company has to keep the lines clear. I do enjoy my electricity. It goes out often enough to keep my appreciation fresh. And I'll happily take the extra sun I'll be getting.

I don't have to accept them squashing the Tall Flower Meadow at the peak of perfection. They can just wait and do it at the same time winter starts the natural squashing process.