Vegetable Dreams.

 Reading a book about a man who has an "allotment" in some English town where he has learned to grow veggies has made me think more about where and what would be neat to grow this fall and maybe even this winter. Beets and root veggies are about the only thing that can do much good in this climate--well, unless you don't mind feeding the cabbage to some pesky rabbits. Would love to grow some Brussel sprouts and broccoli, but that will have to wait a bit. Green beans and black-eyed peas are definitely sunshine plants, but the only place for them would be along the fence next to the Jerusalem artichokes. Not sure that spot will get tilled up again this year. And spring will be back only after we make it through this winter. 

Thompson just informed me that it is doggy snack time. The dental chew seems to satisfy Sylvia, but Thompson took it over and dropped it on the rug by my desk. Well, he will eat it if that is all that's on offer. Poor mistreated dogs!

My doorbell has gone to hell-o in a hand basket, so now the dogs are having to work for a living. This morning Jerry was over bright and early and brought me a holder for a plant. Pretty little brass thing. But he also needed some peroxide--according to him. So he poured on the peroxide to try to stave off infection and punctured the blisters to drain the mess. Eewww. Tipped up the burn cream jar and too much came out, but at least it all got covered. Did not have the right kind of adhesive tape, but at least the burn is covered with no stick bandage pads. His mom came about that time and offered to replace the tape and stuff. She also brought me a box of Cheezit stuff. She asked if maybe ice cream would do, but sometimes only salty things appeal. Gave Jerry a cup of hot chocolate, and he said it needed more coffee in it. Rolling eyes here since it had NO coffee in it!

The nine little black pullets are more adventurous--gadding about the perimeter of the sheds but not yet to the deck or outside a quick dash back to their pen. Smart little birds--well, for the most part. Each evening at least one gets separated from the flock and has to be maneuvered back inside their pen. Funny critters.

More and more FB has been filled up with stuff that is somewhat upsetting. So this old girl has been playing silly games on there instead of reading very much of the posts. It is simply too easy to be hogswallowed by the so-called "news" that is out there. Everybody has one--an opinion and the end it came out of. My mother-in-law had an expression for that. But one of my dear grandsons will just have to ask his mom what Granny Joy's expression was about "everyone has one."

Made some broccoli, carrot, chicken chunk stuff for breakfast. That will be supper as well. Really wanted it to have some cheese sauce on it, so used a bit of Ranch dressing and some vegetable cream cheese dip to "sauce" it up. Not bad. Kinda beats bacon and eggs once in a while. Not that having eggs fresh from the hens is ever really tiring. Gave Jerry's mom some this morning, and she fairly cackled! She said her husband really loves fresh eggs. They are better than what the stores have for sure. And these are always so bright and gold colored. Lance says that they make his pancakes yellow!

Ok, dental sticks were NOT quite enough to suit these spoiled rotten hounds! So now it is mega large marrow treats. Going to have to go to the butcher's place tomorrow and get them something to gnaw on that won't evaporate in 30 seconds or less!

Mr. Anderson often brings up their day old bread or cornbread or whatever he thinks the hens might eat. The dogs have to have their share first and then scatter the hens who dare come up for a taste. Sometimes it means putting the dogs up before the bread is thrown out. Last time the hens knew what was coming and ran to each piece and ran off with it--under the deck! Smart birds. But the dogs will eat anything on my plate including tomato if they think the hens are waiting for their portion. Funny dogs. A can of dog food seems to be the answer. Who knew that they were totally starving!

Lately the chicken water pans have been nasty before noon. Think the black birds and doves must be taking baths in there! Have watched the hens, but they don't seem to be getting anything in the water, so it pretty well has to be the wild birds. Have seen those water nipple things that chickens can use, but not sure it would be worth the bother and cost. Have no idea how Grandmother Pollard's hens got water out of the tank out on the farm. Can't remember seeing her hens drinking from the same tank as the sheep, and can't remember seeing a container of water for the hens. Sterling might remember, but he is just about as forgetful as anybody else. We lived in our own little world when we were on the farm. Growing up out there was a great experience for us.

The other day someone posted something about former Clay County rodeos and other things that stirred memories for me. Some houses in Henrietta just remain somehow in my memory as associated with events that happened years ago. We lived in Clay County all my life until my marriage to Lewis. Then we were only twenty miles or so away from my parents' home. Roger Thonton lived right down the street from me and reminds me of some of the things we did. Climbing trees, going "fishing" for crawdads--crawdading. A piece of string with bacon tied on the end of it was a sure way to catch a crawdad that had a mud castle out on a pond. The water might have gone away, but the crawdad would still be at the bottom of that castle.

Anyway, thinking of some of the things that seemed only possible in Clay County. We had a neighbor woman whose child was screaming and crying almost constantly. Mom went over to see if the woman needed anything for the child. She didn't. She did not want the child in the house with her. Her husband was in prison, and the child was a nuisance. She kept her in a pen at the back door of the house like a dog. The little girl had great big spots on her scalp where the woman had pulled her by her hair. Mom was just horrified. She went to Dr. Schaffner and told him that something had to be done. So the little girl was taken from that woman and given to some folks who could not have children. Now it might have just been an idea that got in my head, but to me that little girl had a sweet room in the big house near the feed mill in Henrietta. Whatever happened, she was not abused in Petrolia anymore. Yes, today Mom could have called CPS. But that agency did not even exist before 1980. Hard to think that children had no voice for them in most places. Just women who cared. 

This month is almost gone. Every year around August, Hanan would start reminding me that his birthday was in September. Yep, the old woman forgot one year and never lived it down. Even had bought a birthday card and put it up for later. So now September is another memory month. Next month is October. Janis was born on the 30th of that month. Last year sweet Jennifer sent her a bouquet of flowers for her 85th birthday--even though it was 84. So glad she did that since it was her last one. Why we put such store in certain days is not really important, but being remembered and loved makes a huge amount of difference in our memories. 

Let us pray for this nation, our president, our neighbors, and those who cannot seem to love others. Only God can show us where truth may be in His way. And we have to DO things in His way if we are to have peace as individuals and as a people. 

May your night be restful and daybreak bring you refreshing thoughts. You are loved.