Digging.

Today I dug. And dug some more. To be honest, I dug yesterday as well. My quest?  Much like a knight in Camelot.  To dig up an old satellite T.V. dish. The dish itself?  Mounted to a pole with stripped nuts. The pole?Possibly reaching to China. But have no fear. It didn’t make it to the Orient. Or even close! But it was below the water line. Set in cement. In clay. I got dirty. Real dirty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

But I persevered. I won! A special thank you goes out to my apprentice Auggie. His help was invaluable. And what shall I do with my trophy? Stuff it to hang on my wall? Eat the flesh for dinner? Keep digging in the hopes of finally eating an authentic egg roll? Eh, who knows. It’s lying in the field right now, waiting for the vultures.

And in its place? A new tree. A Red Bud – indigenous to this great nation. And pretty darn handsome to boot. So another tree is added to the orchard, albeit a non-fruiting one. And I took a second shower. Covered in the soil of Orchard House, today, I determined, was a good day. I also planted some rosemary.  Too soon, perhaps?  Who knows.  I also planted some bulbs and a new evergreen. I love the spring.  I love the flowers.  I love the mild weather.  Renewal is sexy.  Sometimes it works, like the blueberry bushes I planted last fall with new buds on them. Sometimes it fails.  Poor Whitney Houston.

As an aside, the sheep were sheared today. Napoleon is becoming a sheep-like battering ram. Hey, that battering ram makes sense now! They are naked and embracing their bodies. Eating hay out in the field as if they were still draped in their wool.

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