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Sunday, May 24, 2015
Monday, May 18, 2015
Monday's Friday Garden
So, three weeks since my last garden post. Things have changed:
I'm told that the blackberry needs pruning if I want it to be a bush rather than a vine. I have no clue how to prune it, so a trip to the interweb seems in order.
The Mystery Melons are beginning to look suspiciously like sunflowers. Which is OK, but I really wanted melons. I planted honeydew seeds in front of the sunflowers, and will be looking for cantaloupe the next time I'm at the garden store.
I finished running a new water line to the spigot on the patio, and purchased a new garden hose. (The old one was more leak than hose, and way too long to manage.) Now I can water without having to make trips to the kitchen to fill the watering can. Which also makes filling it when I feed the plants much easier, too!
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| Potatoes are running rampant the foreground (six of eight have sprouted). Early Girl and two Anaheim peppers in the background. |
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| The rose stick is filling out, and has several new shoots coming up from the bottom. |
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| Royal Candle (not "King's Candle") is filing out. |
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| Onions and garlic (and weeds). |
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| Reverse view on the peppers and potatoes. One of the new Thai Hots is in the front left corner. |
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| Tomatoes and peppers. Three more Thai Hots, and a row of sprouting |
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| Benny is guarding the lettuce and oregano. |
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| The basil sprout. |
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| Both of the tomato pods have taken off after the rain over the weekend. |
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| Oregano, random onion, tomato, and lettuce. |
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| The blackberry. |
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| The mystery melons. |
I finished running a new water line to the spigot on the patio, and purchased a new garden hose. (The old one was more leak than hose, and way too long to manage.) Now I can water without having to make trips to the kitchen to fill the watering can. Which also makes filling it when I feed the plants much easier, too!
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Time Bomb...
...of a (Now) Minor Sort.
Last last month, I got an email from my cousin, John, asking for my physical mail address. He said that his brother Robert had found something he thought I'd be interested in. I replied, and a week ago, I received a warm letter from Robert, along with an interesting enclosure.
The enclosure in his letter is the bottom dog tag. I've had the other two, since Martha had saved them.
Here is the letter:
The sentence that got partially cut says "tale of the tag".
I can only think of two "easy" explanations. First is, the house belonged to a friend or friends of Dad's, and he gave it to them, or somehow lost it while visiting. Second, Martha visited after the funeral/accident, and gave or lost it. I'm guessing that finding out who owned the place after WWII until the end of 1950 might shed a bit of light on the puzzle.
About the title of this post. After Mom passed away, I spend a month of weekends going thru her stuff, sorting what I wanted to keep and what not to keep. I found a boatload of Dad's things, which just nailed me to the floor. And the name was given.About ten years later, my cousin sent me an envelope she found addressed to me that was in her mom's (my aunt's) desk. It was her written recollection of what happened to Gladys, Lane and me after the two of us were born. As I recall, that pretty much cost me my weekend. I learned to hate time bombs.
But this one not so much. As I told Robert, I've had 35 years to process all of this since Martha passed on. That was the start of my mourning not only her, but Gladys and Dad as well, something I had never truly done until then.
Last last month, I got an email from my cousin, John, asking for my physical mail address. He said that his brother Robert had found something he thought I'd be interested in. I replied, and a week ago, I received a warm letter from Robert, along with an interesting enclosure.
The enclosure in his letter is the bottom dog tag. I've had the other two, since Martha had saved them.
Here is the letter:
The sentence that got partially cut says "tale of the tag".
I can only think of two "easy" explanations. First is, the house belonged to a friend or friends of Dad's, and he gave it to them, or somehow lost it while visiting. Second, Martha visited after the funeral/accident, and gave or lost it. I'm guessing that finding out who owned the place after WWII until the end of 1950 might shed a bit of light on the puzzle.
About the title of this post. After Mom passed away, I spend a month of weekends going thru her stuff, sorting what I wanted to keep and what not to keep. I found a boatload of Dad's things, which just nailed me to the floor. And the name was given.About ten years later, my cousin sent me an envelope she found addressed to me that was in her mom's (my aunt's) desk. It was her written recollection of what happened to Gladys, Lane and me after the two of us were born. As I recall, that pretty much cost me my weekend. I learned to hate time bombs.
But this one not so much. As I told Robert, I've had 35 years to process all of this since Martha passed on. That was the start of my mourning not only her, but Gladys and Dad as well, something I had never truly done until then.
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