Fragments From Floyd

Insult to injury
It has never started easily, which has been a disappointment. I moved up a quality-notch the last time I bought a string trimmer--only the second I've ever owned. I really prefer manual tools, but my joints are getting a larger percentage of the votes lately, and they now have over 51% of the stock, and they say "buy". But this spring when I went to crank the Stihl Model Whatever, it just won't get gas. I knuckled and took it to the small engine repair place I pass on my way to work. And Saturday, I got the bad news. Only AFTER adding a carburetor kit and plug did the repairman reach the conclusion that it was getting no fire. "I even held the plug while I cranked it to be sure my meter wasn't wrong." Bottom line: the part and labor would equal more than half the cost of the machine. And worse: it has been three, not the under-warrantee two years since I bought it. So I pay repair costs on something that will go directly into the dumpster. And meanwhile, the branch and garden edges and road margins grow tall and rangy. Anybody got a goat I can borrow for a day?

Hated to See it Go
I was so looking forward to seeing the grasses at their peak. The pasture was as pretty as I've ever seen it early last week, the unnamed grasses about to flower, their sheaths opening slowly to show sprays of mauve and taupe, panicles of tiny blooms that moved in rhythm to the eddies of warm June winds. And then on Wednesday, we heard the sound of the neighbor's tractor. Just like that, it was laid down in long swaths, flattened against the sandy soil, wildflowers and grasses together. Thursday, turned. Friday, rowed. And Saturday, baled--a good quality hay, but only about half as much as usual because of the cool weather we had all spring. It is beautiful when first cut, but I miss the scene I would have seen this morning in first light had all those stems been standing, sequened in dew.

About the picture
This is the seasonal/orientational reverse of the image that is on the cover of Slow Road Home. The cover image was taken in the fall, and looking west; the one above, in the summer, looking east. If you were standing at the spot from which this picture was taken the other morning as we set out on our walk, I would be able to see you from my window by the porch if I would lean forward at my desk just a bit. Ah, there you are!

How Much Soaking?
Oops. I turned on the soaker hose that I had trailed down in the bean rows last night at 8:15 and planned to turn it off a half hour later before getting ready for bed. I didn't, I realized with a start this morning as I looked at the weather page's mention of possible rain later today. And so I'm wondering how many gallons of soaking that one line of beans got last night. We'll just call this an experiment. Maybe an all-night soak is just what is required. I never used these leaky tubes before, so could be my screw-up was a happy accident. Oh well. What we need is rain. The creeks are really no better off than they were a month ago, with spotty and scant rainfall since then.