Even though it's still raining like the dickens, I decided I could plant the lettuce and onions at the very least. So I did. I was soaked through by the time I was done, but I just really needed to get outside for some fresh air and a dig in the dirt.
There are a few volunteer lettuces coming up out there already so maybe we'll get a taste of fresh, greens soon. I am so ready for homegrown lettuce among other things like homegrown tomatoes.
About 160 onion bulbs got plugged in the dirt. That sounds like a lot, but it really doesn't seem like it once they are all planted in the bed. I planted them fairly close together, but I'll thin them out and pull some up early for green onions.
This is the rhubarb that I transplanted earlier this spring. It's happy, happy, happy.
And so am I. I love me some rhubarb pie.
I was going to say, "It's a lovely day for ducks," but it is actually a lovely day for chickens too.
They were busy hunting for waterlogged worms.
Here are the peeps!
Hardly looking like those sweet little balls of fluff anymore, they are at that prepubescent stage when they aren't cute lil peeps and they aren't pretty, refined pullets yet. It's the tween stage where they are really growing and looking rather homely.
The rain keeps on coming and more and more country roads are washing out. They guys took our Rangers (ATVs) and went with a rescue team to the Little Missouri to get a rancher out. The rescue team had two jet skis to get through all the water. Everything turned out fine. I really feel sorry for those folks along the river. Their livestock is mostly stranded and many are lambing now and can't get to their sheep.
I hope you're getting a little sunshine along with the rain.
We need both, don't we?
The best kind of rain, of course, is a cozy rain. This is the kind the anonymous medieval poet makes me remember, the rain that falls on a day when you'd just as soon stay in bed a little longer, write letters or read a good book by the fire, take early tea with hot scones and jam and look out the streaked window with complacency.
~Susan Allen Toth, England For All Seasons