Yesterday, my husband woke me at 6 a.m. to weed the garden. I would have sworn it was a holiday. Oh yeah, that's right, I live on a farm. There are no holidays or vacations to speak of, but that is the life we have chosen. There are days I grumble, but usually those are the ones that begin without my fill of coffee.
I stumbled to the garden with coffee cup in hand and soon realized that water would have been way more appropriate. The air was thick with the promise of yet more rain and storms. We have been able to cultivate, but not weed the plants, and so the next few hours were spent pulling weeds and carting them off to be tossed over the bank. As I weeded one row, I looked up to see the next row of green beans was hanging full and needed to be be picked. Yikes! So soon, I thought!
At 10:30, we were down to the last row of corn when the thunder boomed and the skies darkened. I tried to finish up, but with a fraidy cat bird dog wrapped around my legs like a toddler, I gave up. ( and no he doesn't hunt ..) I headed to the barn to put up the horses, in case of hail, and the Heavens opened up. I spent the rest of the day trimming hooves on the cashmere goats and deworming. It rained until 5 :30. We had a 2 hour window, that allowed for the evening chores and milking to be finished and once again the rains set in. It rained all night long.
Today I picked green beans in between showers after I got home from work. Not even a quarter of the way through, I had an overflowing peck basket. My Mom would probably have a stroke for picking on wet vines, but at this point it is probably black spot or ROT!! Looks like canning is in the not so distant horizon..