Home > gardening, poetry > holiday weekend

holiday weekend

Its been a nice four days off work, like three Saturdays in a row and you still get Sunday. I got some gardening done, about 100 square feet in the raised bed John built. After he tested the soil and it came out with nothing I added 6 inches of horse manure, let that moulder for a while and turned it in good and planted it.

A couple of garlics I must have missed when I harvested had a bunch of little ones and I separated them and planted them first, then the garlic I had from the market, then the garlic Sarah gave me (German Porcelain). Then I got garlic from Trevor who had gotten it from “the Amish looking dude”. Also, right after the little garlic plants I planted a couple of cloves I grew. I picked up 2 kinds from the Root Cellar, the first was an Afghan garlic and then half a head of their generic local garlic. I planted them close because I like to maximize my space.

I also started turning over the soil in cold frame. I have some lettuce and spinach seed. I looked at Lowes when I bought furnace filters but they didn’t have any seed. A whole aisle of poison but not a seed for the Fall garden. I did get tulip bulbs dirt cheap and its only December. I’ve gotten them to work planting them in January.

I worked six of them by the end of the strawberry patch and weeded some. I had friends over and went out. I cooked food and ate food, cleaned, and kept the momentum going. Glad I have to go to work tomorrow before I forget how and think I live just to do what I feel like. I’ve been blessed to have more time doing that then most. I wrote this poem back in the day when I was living like that sort of and remembering when I was doing that for real. Dan Chisolm had a guitar accompaniment that was pretty cool and I remember singing it at our cabins up in Canada for Mike and Phoebe’s wedding when I was wooing Amee. My only real bad boy song. I have another one that I never did anything with but they were both written along with a third piece with several bad boy stories strung together but it was too busy, so I split it up. Any way here it is:

She said her boyfriend was out of town

And would I like to fool around?

She said her boyfriend was out of town

So you can probably guess where I was found.

And oh her kisses they were sweet

And the ecstasy couldn’t be beat

Smoking kief and fresh orange juice

I was feeling high, I was feeling loose.

And I’ve been lucky all my life

And sometimes wrong turns out all right,

It gets so lonely after sunset

I’ll steal some love to get through the night.

And oh her kisses they were sweet

And the ecstasy couldn’t be beat

Smoking kief and fresh orange juice

I was feeling high, I was feeling loose.

Categories: gardening, poetry
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