What a day.  Rolling along on waves of emotion, enjoying the simple things and now I am hungry and exhausted. Supper is cooking- Cod with onions, mango and chives with a touch of maple butter.  Rice.  A salad.  I'm looking forward to it.

Starting taking back the garden from the lawn that had grown over it.  Luckily, I found the edge of black plastic I had put down two years ago.  It was like peeling back carpet.  A long enough and wide enough strip was accomplished to accommodate four kale plants and several mustard green transplants.  I also sowed seeds of Bull's Blood beets, spinach and rainbow chard.  The weeds had taken over my flower bed with the miniature daffodils.  I worked there a bit.  I cleared away an area that revealed primroses in desperate need of division.  They've been given new homes in the cleared space. 

Now I am stiff and tired.  I showered and I'm in my jammies.  After supper, I think it's time to work on my monologue.  The one I've been patently ignoring and am to produce Wednesday in front of an audience.  I also need to write the letter for Home Health stating my unavailability on Mondays effective May fifteenth.  I think I'm ready to do that. 

We have the cedar fence posts for the dog fence.  Erik needs to borrow a post hole digger from a friend and line out the perimeter of the enclosure.  And then, next mileage check, we can purchase the fence to attach to the posts. 

We're also going to be raising chickens with the neighbors.  Broilers and eggs and manure, whoo-hoo!   I'm becoming more and more interested in reclaiming our ability to raise our own food whenever possible.  I think up here we're going to need to combine our abilities to sustain our community on the most basic of levels if the gas and oil issue comes to a head.  My neighbor Brian bakes kick ass bread- I can can veggies etc.  We need to put in a root cellar, but that's easily doable.  Yes, I know it's apocalypse thinking, but raising one's own ain't a bad idea. 

Time to tend to dinner.  Blessings abound