In like a lamb...

Out like a lion. *sigh* I can't believe it's 77 degrees here today, but I'm taking advantage of it. I let the kittens out to play this morning, walked the dog, and went to the grocery store for Mom. She was sent home from work today since she was running a fever, and she found out at her appointment that she had the flu. Funny stuff, since she's such a flu vaccine advocate, but definately not funny that she feels awful.

So while she went to the doctor, I set out to finish 'leafing' and plowing the garden. Most of you will remember that I have already plowed and disced once, but the soil here is fairly poor, so I needed some help with the fertilizer. Enter the bagging lawnmower. Down the path through our woods I went, collecting more leaves, and transferring them to the garden. Once I was satisfied that my 60' by 30' plot had been sufficiently covered, I got the '52 Red Belly and went to get the plow. Unfortunately, the tractor was still attached to the bushhog. After wrangling the bushhog off, and the plow on, I came toward the garden. My mistake was trying to adjust the PTO bars and drive simultaneously. I cranked the arm the wrong way, and PLOP! off came the entire arm. AGH! So with a major tilt to one side, with the points trying to plow, I came to a screeching halt. With much time and effort and grumbling, I finally pryed the plow loose from the tractor, so I could reattach the bar and pick up the plow. Had there been someone else here with me, this would have taken 10 minutes at most. However, by myself, moving and inch, turning off the engine, adjusting the lift, etc., I finished about 30 minutes later. Great news is, the garden is plowed, and the leaves are sufficiently buried in the clay, along with Bobby's left over fishin' worms.

Dad mentioned that the Brookberry barn across the street was being torn down (I'm not going there right now), but we're going to look into scraping up some of the manure for the gardens. The barn has been sitting vacant for at least 5 years, so it's a well aged specimen.

Ginger dog kept me company most of the day, riding as my masthead on the lawnmower and running beside on the tractor.

We went to the lake yesterday, and Bobby tried out his new fishing rod. It's officially christened by a few white bass, a few blue gill, and some other wittle fishies. I think there were 13 in total, but I'm sure he'll correct me if I'm off. None were big enough to keep, but MAN! were they jumping yesterday! Ginger took a swim, chasing Bobby's bobber around the lake, and exploring the bank where the lake used to be. The water at High Rock is WAY down.

AGH! I'm going to be late for church. More seed and garden pics tomorrow, when it's bright and 70+ degrees again. Toodles!