Caught in the act

Because life on the vineyard is ruff.

Sorry, couldn't help myself.

But while we're at it, check out Cotton's paws. Me thinks she's gonna be a big 'un.

Reinforcements

Aaron, one of Nathan's nephews, generously agreed to help us with our chili crop this week. It's a thankless job really: thinning the rows and hoeing weeds in 107 degree weather. He's diligent, polite, uncomplaining and even remembers to wear sunscreen.

There's just no question in my mind: Aaron is a champ.

De peanuts, de peanuts!

The day has come. Finally.

The peanuts are being planted as we speak.

With two days to spare even before the crop insurance folks get cranky.

We have so focused on getting these seeds in the ground that everything else (besides the sunflower field) has been added to a mythical post-planting list.

"We've got to get the handles put on the outhouse doors."

Sure, once the peanuts are in the ground.

"We need to replace Mae's starter switch."

Sure, once the peanuts are in the ground.

"We need to find a buyer for our chili peppers."

Sure, once the peanuts are in the ground.

"We need to get the swamp cooler installed at the barn."

Sure, once the peanuts are in the ground.

"We need to get more than four hours of sleep at night."

Sure, once the peanuts are in the ground.

You get the picture.

I have a sneaky suspicion the great reprieve we've been anxiously awaiting isn't going to be all that great.

Salty tracks

Salty tracks continue to appear, and her food and water bowls continue to be emptied. Apparently she's adapted rather quickly to a barn kitty.

Welcome to our sunflower field

Er, I mean chili field. (Did I mention we have a weed problem?)

Nathan's been spending some real quality time with the cultivator. Anytime he spends quality time on the farm . . . he gets dirty.

I mean filthy dirty. The entertaining part is how many times he gets checked out by Mennonite women when he's that dirty. I'm so not even joking. It happens frequently and I giggle violently each time.

So not my fault

Though I am an enabler in every way possible when it comes to adding to our furry family, this one wasn't actually my idea. 

A great pyrenees puppy. What every farm needs. 

Eight weeks old. Exceptionally docile. 

One guess who instigated her addition.

She is Aslan's apprentice.

Dubbed "Cotton" by Nathan, she's beloved already.

Modest plans

When we began this adventure back in February I sketched out modest plans for our first family garden. Something along these lines:

Just a few square immaculately-manicured plots to sustain us through most of the year. No pesticides. Only organic practices to feed our family.

Maybe a few imaginatively-pruned trees.

Certainly a topiary sprinkled here and there.

How hard could it be?

I can hear my parents snickering from nine hours away.

In our abundance of spare time, after fighting off rodents and hogs in the chili peppers and pulling weeds until our hamstrings are as tight as guitar strings, this is my crowning achievement.

Three tiny succulents, chosen because they're drought hardy when neglected for long stretches of time. Not exactly my romantic notion of what our first family garden would be.

Perhaps next year. In a greenhouse. After a good dousing of Roundup.