My mother could be so unreasonable about what I did with my own head when I was a kid. I was sitting on the floor at the end of the kitchen table playing one evening after dinner, when Phyllis tipped over a bowl of canned peaches. The syrup ran off the end of the table, onto my head. It felt cool and good. I didn’t complain. The next morning Continue reading
Ilove dirt. This is some great dirt. It is the color and weight of chocolate cake mix, but I haven’t tasted it yet. I am moving a lot of this into the strawberry bed just outside my backdoor. This particular dirt is from a our four year old compost he heap where we dumped grass, branches, garden and kitchen refuse, bured a few varmints. Bud has turned this pile 3 to six times a year for the past four years with his garden tractor. It would have broken down much faster if I had left it alone, but I planted Cushaw, Yukon Gold Potatoes. And Sweet Potatoes in it last year, so he couldn’t turn it for a long time.
We have a three-year-old, a two-year-old, and a year old compost heap.
When my first child was born, I suffered from Post Partum Depression. I had expected to welcome him joyfully into my life, but I was so depressed, I wasn’t able to do that. I cared for Continue reading