Insanity

 Today is July 6, 2025. It has been 303 days since I last posted, Sep 6, 2024.

My garden is no longer mine.

It’s still there, but it’s not mine.

So, thinking about what to do with this blog, I pondered the fact that lately I have been ultra conscious of insanity. Craziness. Planet-wide as well as inner circle wide insanity. Nothing new here, just my sensitivity to insanity that affects me.

A few days ago I read that the 14^th Dalai Lama, a youngster of 90 years, predicted he would live another thirty or forty years (presumably he will soon decide and announce which). Good for him!! is my first reaction. But millions, if not billions of people worship in the wake of this human god. They must be rejoicing at the announcement. I am puzzled by this. There is an attached bonus: the good god will re-incarnate (no, I do not capitalize things other than what muscle memory makes me, like I, for the first person pronoun. But not wednesday. Why do I have to capitalize wednesday when I don’t capitalize skaʔɬlásq̓ət).

Back to (re)incarnation. I have known (of) people who are devils incarnate. I know some such devils. But while I know individual devils, I do not know who THE devil is. I understand several denominations claim it (him? her?) as one of the cast of characters in their theological scheme. What good catholic would want to do away with the devil? Such a useful creature.

Now, it doesn’t bother me that the dalai lama (i remembered not to capitalize—goody goody) will live to 120 if not 130. But what about the millions who live in his wake? And he has announced his reincarnation. He will come back as a male child. My question is, will their respective existences overlap? Will the old be able to meet the new in person?

you see, i have joined the general craziness. couldn’t help it.

But all this thinking brings me back to reality—the realization of my mortality. I am not as “young” as the dalai lama, but I know I won’t live another 30 or 40 years. I just would like to live long enough to see and touch my grandchildren from time to time, all of them, but especially the ones who won’t be able to remember me. Can some insanity keep me from seeing and touching my grandchildren? Yes it can!

So while I walk along the rim of the mesa and rejoice at the spectacular view of the snow capped mountains, I think of the day of my permanent death. No reincarnation is planned—and neither is my attendance at judgment day—won’t be there, period. There are benches along the paths, and this plaque is next to one such.

I see my name in place of Chase’s; I see familiar names in place of the five mentioned there and I would like to hope that no matter how imperfect a (grand)parent I am and have been, I could count on some of my inner circle thinking of me.

Mind you, while I talk to the dead (and sometimes can hear their replies—see how insane I am?) I also communicate telepathically with those whom I am forbidden to communicate with. It’s a constant telepathic marathon.

Haven’t you had enough of my insane thoughts?

When I have had my fill of insane thoughts, I revert to other activities.

Did you notice that I wrote it has been 303 days since my post of Sep 6, 2024?

Did I add the months and days, moltiplied, added again, etc? No, I wrote a few lines of code to do the counting from me. Let me elaborate.

Many years ago, when from our empty nest I was trying to stay in touch with our fledged children, I challenged them to articulate an algorithm which would calculate the exact date when I would be twice as old as each of them. I like to remember that the game was fun, and there was some back and forth about the algorithm, but hey, that was long ago.

In any case, I thought then and think now that folks could celebrate that day. We celebrate mother’s and father’s day, why not—help me come up with something—half/double day? So I wrote a few lines of code and calculated that today, july 6, 2025 I am 30817 days old. Now, if I calculate how many days old you (anybody) are, then I can calculate when our half/double day is, either in the future or in the past.

So when my walks on the mesa turn maudling I go back to my hat rack and put a dunce’s cap on and make silly plans. Who knows, half/double day may catch on, and cards can be printed, T-shirts, hats, toys… and while I know the app wouldn’t be a money maker, it may make a few friends smile.

Sit and rest.

Two things I've learned

It's been a while!

The garden  has produced well. Zucchini in the right amount; beans late, but abundant. Spinach a disappointment. Green lettuce very good. Haven't bought lettuce all summer. Long eggplant abundant from a plant I bought--maybe ten fruits so far. And the ones from my seeds coming along well.

Tomatoes are coming along and we have eaten some. All are beginning to blush, and the vines are loaded:

But more interestingly, I observed two things.

First, I accidentally cut the vine on which two butternut squash were growing. I lay them on the kitchen counter and later found a large puddle under them, which eventually I determined was liquid oozing from the stem. I wiped the puddle and replaced the squash on the counter. The next day the squash was still oozing liquid, as shown here. Lesson learned: don't harvest the squash too early.

Another lesson. As always, my garden is full of volunteer plants, and I had a squash growing in one of my raised beds. It does not look like any of the squash I had seeds of, nor did my compost bins have any seeds but what came from my garden. So, look at this oversize thing:

Two tomato plants on each side of the squash had stopped growing and the fruit had shriveled. Lesson learned, the squash will such all the nutrients and starve its neighbors.

It has been a summer.

Updates

This morning I planted my first batch of tomato seeds, my Big Red, in one of the beds chosen for tomatoes. More of the same, but with different seeds, is scheduled for tomorrow.

The below-freezing temps we had about a week ago wreaked havoc on my fruit buds. Both my prune plums (yes, I discovered a second one) are shriveled. So are many of the peach buds. And the pear trees that looked so promising have very few viable ones. Such is life.

I have several beds with spinach. They are doing well, except for the one our dog chose to go lie in. Too bad, but not disastrous.

Radishes are growing; green beans are sprouting. I haven't seen the lettuce or arugola or cilantro come up. Strawberries are ripening. Several beets in the greenhouse are producing good foliage and I will be ready to harvest some. Likewise with red chard, what's left of last season's crop.

I am hard at work with my compost, mixing it with horse manure and treating it to blend it well. I have two beds that need last year's dirt removed and replaced with my treated compost. Hard, but enjoyable work.

Pleasant surprise

I have been watching my fruit trees, and much to my delight I saw signs that the peach is going to produce fruit. There are scores of babies like this one:

Not the best picture, and not in focus, but look at the single plum I saw growing on my newest tree:

Fun and joy!

And I can only hope that the pear trees will be similarly generous. Looking at the blossoms, things look promising:

Vegetable-loving rat caught!

 An audacious rat has been eating the potato leaves and beet leaves growing in my greenhouse. All the potato fronds are gone! And this gives you an idea of what's left of my dozen beets:

The rascal had avoided my trap for two weeks. Then I set up a second trap, and armed it with peanut butter, and here is the result:

I have been preparing my raised beds, and so far I have planted green lettuce and spinach in one; radishes and green beans in another; and pole beans and arugola in a third one. I've been busy mixing compost and manure and stirring and replacing what's left from last year.

My trees are doing well, especially the pear trees, now coming into full bloom:

And I am hoping that some of the peach flowers that have gotten past the two freezes we've had will turn to juicy fruit. We'll see!

Dirt (brown gold)

As I previewed yesterday's post, I noticed that in all of last summer I posted a total of TWO entries. Well, that's not keeping a journal! Summary 2023: Tomatoes, Apples: excellent. Beans, spinach: disappointing. Squash: very good. Broccoli: not good. Couldn't get arugola or mesclun to produce anything.

Back to the present.

This morning I prepared my dirt to fill the first bed with spinach and lettuce. I started with two wheel barrows as seen here:

On the left the dirt that consists of two ingredients: my compost, and horse manure, in approximately equal proportions. On the right a quarter-inch strainer on an empty wheel barrow. Now I am ready to sift my dirt, in several batches, and here is the resulting top soil with which I will cover the seeds in my bed:

This is fine stuff! Ready to cover the spinach and green lettuce seeds I have put in one of my beds. And if you are good, I'll show you a picture of it.

Spring is here

It has been over six months since my last post.

I have worked on the garden over the winter, preparing it for the real work of spring. I have turned some of my beds; I have collected a pick-up load of horse manure and distributed it to my fruit trees; today I prepared a small bed of spinach, a sort of experiment to see how early I can plant spinach. Last season spinach was a disappointment, and I am trying to do better.

The apricot tree was the first to flower, and to suffer the results of two freezes. The flowers are gone from the branches. Another year of no crop.

The peach tree in the vegetable penitentiary flowered next, and much to my surprise, the flowers are still lingering on the branches, as seen in this picture taken today:

Is it possible some of them will turn to fruit? I hope so. The other two young peaches no longer have flowers. The tiny one that gave us three fruits last season is taking a rest now.

I have a new prunus domestica tree, and it has flowers, but I do not expepct any of them to make it to fruit.

The apple tree(s), the old matriarch that gave us so many apples last season, is about to flower, as are the three youngsters.

The pear trees are looking very good and seem to be about to burst into flower. I am anxious to see what they will do in this their second year in my "orchard."

Spring greetings and happy gardening!