"Beam-ectomy should precede all mote micro-surgery. Just saying." Ginger Conrad paraphrasing Jesus Christ.

Paradigm Shift

“The list of health problems I think it would very hard to live with is SO much longer than the list of foods I previously thought I couldn’t live without,” Merrill Alley.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

flowers and dogs

After I finished digging two really big holes, two lovely if small brilliant, red hibiscus became part of my secret garden food forest. Because I still had some energy left, I raked out the gravel and built a six-foot diameter burm around my cute baby clementine tree. Then I filled it with five, 5-gallon buckets of compost. Hubby came out and decided to lend a hand by topping the burm with wood chips. Finally, I changed out the drip attachment on the irrigation line for a drip circle. Because we can't really replant all our trees, the edible, permaculture landscape consultant said we would have better growth and tastier fruit with this approach.

"...A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find none: cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground? And he answering said unto him, Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it: And if it bear fruit, well: and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down," Luke 13:6-9.

It's wonderful how the Father instructs us on any topic we'd like to know more about. Like the keeper of the vineyard, I will give my trees a bit of time and care. If they don't yield good fruit in a year or two, I shall cut the bad ones down so as not to cumber the ground.

While I was out earlier, I put the water on to soften the concrete-like soil in the hole I'm digging for the last moringa. Then I went inside and forgot. After taking a nap, I took the dog out and realized I flooded the side yard. uuuugh! Well, it turned out to be a very humorous mistake. Dash was doing her best to live up to her name, dashing and tearing around the yard, when she landed right in the water-filled hole. In her defence, it looked like a shiny version of the dirt all around the hole. The look on her face sent me into peals of laughter. Unfazed, she continued running around the yard as her blond fur took on a muddy tinge. Playing her own version of hide and seek, she stole my glove just like she steals my socks. Never, never doesn't she chew them but simply hides them. It's a glorious game in her mind. She's a hoot.