Given that we had about 12 inches of rain in November, it might surprise you to hear this was a great week in the garden. All that rain left our soil the consistency of gingerbread - moist, crumbly, and smelling a lot like heaven. Those rooted cuttings we tucked into the nursery bed back in March survived the hottest, driest summer we've ever seen, and we planted 55 lavishly-rooted native trees and shrubs this weekend.
All the posts for the vinyard are cut and curing in the shed, too! They came from the black locusts Bill planted 30 years ago - posts on demand and reproducing faster than we're cutting! There were adventures involving most of our vehicles and lots of cable, but no one got hurt, no equipment was smashed, and all the trees in the orchard are still standing. You say it would have been easier to just buy posts? Sure, but where's the fun in that?
It was that tricky kind of weather all weekend - freezing overnight, and the house got cold in all the corners. But when we were outside in the sun, working, it felt balmy. OK, it would have seemed warm inside if we'd been cleaning house or something, but that's not the kind of dirt we like! And I secretly don't mind the shorter days when it starts getting dark just about beer o'clock. Seems about right.
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