The cucumbers are winning. I’ve given some away, made pickles, served them fresh at every meal, and still they’ve outrun me. I’m glad I didn’t plant zucchini!
I love rummaging around in the garden and coming upon a wayward dill plant with its lovely fragrance. I cut some heads to go in a bouquet with volunteer celosia and sunflowers. I planted these three plants a few years ago from seed and now they come up wherever they like. They create a random arrangement each year. Vegetable gardens are a thing of beauty, some with manicured rows and crisp edges, others, like mine, with overgrown abandon.
The goldfinches have the airwaves to themselves lately. There are still a few kingbirds around, but they're silent. And even the owls have quieted their nighttime screeching. The slide toward fall has begun.
Seth and Anna are back at school. I hate to see them go, but this is life as we know it. We had such fun while they were home. They helped us move cattle and work on the cabin and spent quality time with the whole family. Their Washington DC experience was grand, but neither one plans a career in the east.
I have a new word, equanimity. I read about within a Buddhist framework, but all the major religions teach it. Equanimity means an evenness of mind. It acknowledges that good times and bad times, neither one, last very long. Better to cultivate a calm contentment.
And lest you think it means to be detached or apathetic, Wikipedia says it is rather a “mature radiance” and “warmth of being.”
This philosophy fits me and Mark this hot, dry, summer of 2013. Good for parenting children who are now adults. Good for finding new passions and growing up. Good for the ups and downs of ranching. Good, even, for quietly letting some of the cucumbers turn into mulch.
|time out for women's work|
|all is well|