Dispatched fig.

 It wore us both out digging the hole this morning. We have two fig trees that Wilson rooted from his sister's tree. They both started as single finger-sized twigs this spring. Today we planted the healthier one in the ground. It grew the most branches this year. The other one grew fewer branches but is as tall as this one. I suspect this one grew better because it put its root through the bottom of the pot into the ground. We are just hoping that it survives the root break and transplant. This is a perfect sunny corner for it. We will watch next year to see how much it gains over this year. Maybe even some figs?! I am hoping so! 

More little works of mercy are going on in the yard. I rescued some plants from pots at our library and am trying to save/revive them in new soil at home. I am spinning my wheels trying to decide if the geraniums are worth even trying to resuscitate. Bulbs from the former shady oak corner are in the relocation program. I am running out of ground and have half a bucket more to bury.

Meanwhile...we are reintegrating into some social activities. I even attended a junior varsity football game on Thursday night. Niece from out of town was here because her daughter was cheering at the game. I met her at her mom's house and we went to the game together. It felt a little strange sitting in a crowd. Next week my bible study will convene and revisit a previously viewed video series. We will distance and wear masks. 

Sad, sad news. My very own YMCA is closing. The Covid was the nail in the coffin. Financial footing has been shaky for years. And now this. Just another brick in the wall that is 2020.

Still trying to find some peace every day as the political situation wallows in the quagmire. 

Look for that shalom everybody. 

Shalom. 

Dispatch of a mini-adventure: this new blog upgrade is a hot mess.

Wilson got on board with my request to visit a water powered grist mill a little more than an hour away from our house. The mill only grinds on Saturday but you can drop by any day for a look around and to purchase cornmeal, grits, or flour on the honor system. (They also mill wheat.) You can buy white or yellow grits or cornmeal. 

We took a right at Jerusalem and then had to drive 6 more miles down a country road. It was lovely.

**When I attempted to upload the photos they rearranged themselves. I tried again to get them in correct order but this new blog upgrade has a mind of its own. So I gave up. 

Here are just some of what I snapped this morning.

In no particular order...

The old building is not the original housing for the grist mill. Fire, floods, and tornadoes have happened over the years. This building is old, it lists to the south, and is filled with every kind of old implant and horse shoe that you can imagine. Tour at your own risk. Some of the little planks are iffy.

This box holds the water that powers the mill. It is low in the photo. 

After Mr. Sciple lifted the gate it filled rapidly.

 

A pair of older gentlemen drove over from Gainstown, AL with a van of corn to be milled. Thy paid using the toll system. The proprietor of the mill gets 1/8 of the corn milled. The other option is to pay $3 per bushel to have your corn milled. Mr. Sciple measured their corn in 1/2 bushel containers and drew out his 1/8 before loading the corn into the wood tub at the top of the mill. The corn would go down a center opening and land between the two huge stones where it was ground. He operated a wheel that regulated how fine the corn was ground thus producing grits or meal. He then sifted the chaff and just dumped that out on the floor. He would sweep that up later and feed it to his goats. 

History. 

Across the street from the mill is the Mill Opry. Every first and third Saturday night they have music. All are welcome. No smoking. So alcohol. 

Hope you have found a little fun in your weekend.

Shalom. 

Damn the dispatch.

 Lord,

I'm feeling a little tired tonight. 

I know you understand. 

It has been a roller coaster kind of day. 

You understand.

I am thankful that the day is ending better than it started.

You understand.

This year has twisted me like the rag I wring out when I am cleaning out cabinets.

You understand. 

There are two storms in the wide open heading for who knows what.

You understand?

You understand. 

Shalom. 

Tardy dispatch.

 The month is half over. Argh. I haven't even written any messages on my message boards...I usually write a new something the first of every month. Am I so busy? No. Most days I can not account for my time. Days run together. Corona virus. 

We did spend a most excellent anniversary this week kayaking. Neither of us had ever done that before. It was so good to be doing anything. Being outdoors and especially on the water renewed my spirit. 

 

Yesterday one of Wilson's sisters had a pacemaker installed. She is my age. It all came on so fast it was hard to process. She is slated to go home today. 

This morning I volunteered at our local farmers' market. Wilson is still at the Habitat house doing some volunteer construction. 

Earlier this week I ordered 2 dozen new washcloths because our old ones were getting so very dingy. They are all washed and put away. Old ones are relegated to the rag bag or are in the garbage. 

Crochet projects are ongoing. 

I've got a sleeper book that I am reading. I mean it puts me to sleep. 

The butterfly garden is slowly giving in to the heat. Butterflies are still visiting. 

We have pulled up most of the summer veggies. We have 2 tomato plants still in pots, 2 bell pepper plants in pots, okra in the raised bed, and watermelons on the vine. We are starting to decide what fall veggies to plant. 

I'm slowly getting my garden club plans for the year fleshed out. This is my second and last year to be president. It is such an odd time to be involved with any organization. 

My hopes for a stellar tenure in office have been dashed a bit. Other clubs with bigger and younger memberships are going great guns. Our aging membership doesn't lend itself to in-person gatherings. 

Life in a pandemic. 

I'm just going to keep breathing. 

Shalom. 

Friday dispatch.

Oh no. Here comes the weekend. I don't really mean to, but I think I'm dropping the ball.

Shalom.

This dispatch is brought to you by the color yellow.

 So our Sweet Lauren had some elective surgery this morning. 

Days ago she told her mom that she wanted to take "Yellow" to the hospital with her.

Side note: Yellow is the baby afghan I crocheted for her before she was born. Yellow is also 17.

Daughter responded: okay but we have to wash him.

Lauren: never mind.

Fast forward to last night...(quoted from texts) Lauren decided a clean Yellow is better than no Yellow at all. Fingers crossed that he doesn't disintegrate in the wash. 

This morning I text Daughter...

Woke up thinking about Lauren. Hope she is calm and ready. You, too! Did yellow hold up?

Then this picture arrived with this message...

Yes!! Doing well for 17 years of hard love.

I had an emotional reaction...crying and laughing at the same time, in the extreme.

Man. I love those two girls...

So I walked extra hard trying to work off all the feels this morning.

We aren't really socially distancing. On purpose.

I am the pace setter. 

Namaste good people. 

And. 

Shalom.

Dispatched to Nanny's house.

Daughter & her offspring paid a visit today.

It was wonder filled with food, and conversation, and laughter.

I copied SIL's fruit pizza from 4th of July at her house.

It is gone. It was delicious. 

Wilson even said how good it was. High praise.

The fresh peach taste was a little overwhelmed by the almond flavoring in the filling. 

Adult conversation on national hot topics worked its magic. 

Worked like a charm.

Then we played with the Google animals...

She plays well with ponies. 

Heavens! Who let in this raccoon? 

She was startled by the critter on the couch. 

Ha!

Our tanks are filled now. We can make it a few more days.

Shalom.