It has been a weird couple of weeks here on the Moody Weenie Ranch and Collective Farm. We've been dealing with daytime highs between 45 and 80, along with nighttime lows from 23-38. I keep feeling myself drawn outside the door with trays of seedlings (the ones filling the kitchen table) and packets of seeds in the hopes of getting stuff started outside for Colorado's 10-minute growing season.
Inside, the trays of seedlings are going to town ... the seven tomato plants up front are doing great, as is the sunflower in the background and two of the three beans.
As for the plant in the lower right -- I THINK it's an acorn squash, but I'm not sure anymore. As long as it isn't a zucchini, I'll be happy with it.
Meanwhile, the AeroGarden (the hydroponic planter) is doing its best impression of "Feed Me Seymour." (We haven't seen the cat in three days and we're beginning to worry) I keep inviting my annoying neighbor to come inside and stand next to the garden while I run upstairs for something I want to show him, but he just won't bite. Strangely enough, neither will the Giant Basil. (We have two Giant Basils, one named Basil, the other named Rathbone.) So, the annoying neighbor gets away. Still haven't seen the cat.
After our adventures with the rototiller a few days ago, the boys and I have decided to add yet another round of Cow and Compost to the gardens. This product, from Richlawn in Colorado is marvelous. It's almost a miracle worker when it comes to building soil.
(No, this is not a shameless plug for freebies. I feel ashamed you could even think that ... and I highly doubt that Richlawn will see these photos unless one of you sends them to the company.)
Furious George, who, I gathered, failed basic biology, stored two bags of Cow and Compost in the manner seen below, all in the hopes of coming out to find numerous little bags of Cow and Compost that we could use in the flower beds. It doesn't work that way. I think they've got to be face to face.
Our daughter Brynn found a new plaster geegaw for the garden, to go with the Dragon Burning Gnomes and King Kong Eating Gnomes and our Coffee Drinking Frog and numerous spinners which the squirrels pull down, dismantle and sell for parts next to the road.
I do like the Lion, but I'd rather have Brynn sitting in the garden. There's little chance the squirrels would pull her down, dismantle her and sell her for parts next to the road. (Then, again, I wouldn't put it past the little bastards.)
Mr. Bitterman is working on a new self-portrait as he waits for planting and growing season to officially begin. He says he was inspired by Vinnie "Big Tuna" Van Gogh, a painter, I take it, from South Philly.
Furious George and I are convinced he's doing an impression of Kellyanne Conway and we think it is in questionable taste.
Meanwhile, Furious has once again pulled out the rototiller, which is like some kind of soil-churning go-kart to him. He fired it up and tore off across the yard, completely out of control. He went through a fence into the Bat Shit Crazy Neighbor's Yard, just missing his shed and outbuildings (all still standing, as you can see below), then assuaged the BSCN's rage (he lost a patch of early season pansies) by claiming he was just digging the trench to create a small scale version of the Erie Canal to help celebrate the greatness of America.
The Bat Shit Crazy Neighbor wiped a patriotic tear from his eye, took another shot of his third martini, and put his arm around Furious as if he had rediscovered his long lost, somewhat hairy, son and they retired to the porch for cocktail hour.
In the photo below, notice that guy down right? That's my $420 limited edition Batman maquette (until about 20 minutes ago, still in the box) repainted and with a new hat to pose as an Erie Canal worker (NOT limited edition, NOT still in the box).
You gotta love Furious George. You gotta love him cuz you can't cut him up in little pieces and mail him to Miami.
Where, oh, where, do I get such horrible thoughts? It is as if I was influenced in my childhood by something. But what?'
Can't imagine what ...
(Oh, I'm just hand tilling the soil here. That's all. It's got to be in little tiny pieces to help the plants grow ... heh heh heh. See you next time, kiddies!)