Even with today’s rain, our peonies are glorious. I don’t know if these are daughter-plants from my grandmother’s beauties in the next garden south, or if they have a different history. Simply, they are mah-vell-us. (The llama poop benefits have kicked in.)
Our very (cubed) kind neighbor tracked down a guy with a portable mill to cut up the trunks of the venerable white pine (over a century old) that have been on the ground for over a year. It’s time to make sure that the wood is not-firewood.
For some reason rooted his hazy memories, I expected it to be a variation on a chain saw mill. Instead, the cutting is done by a bandsaw, with hydraulics to maneuver the logs.
We will keep several slabs, and give them another year or so to dry out, then make them into tables (or something).
We crossed many bridges today. Uncounted. Including two very large ones.
This is a large free one, with an extremely checkered construction history. The internet indicates that the latest problem has been “bridge bearings.” I wonder what they are.
This one is a toll (not tool) bridge, also high enough that lake freighters can pass beneath safely. This one has not been plagued by construction problems, but during the summer you can assume that one lane (aka carriage-way) each way will be closed to make room for the workers and equipment necessary to repaint exposed metal, including underneath the vehicles.
Unusual in our experience, only two cash toll (not tool) booths were open. There’s now a transponder option, also two lanes, but I didn’t see a single vehicle do that while we were in line. Times change slowly?
You know what the interstate routes offer—no stop signs and lines of semis, occasional moseying RVs, smaller vehicles driven by the attentive and not-so-attentive—a regular assortment of conveyances zipping down two or more lanes (umhem, carriage ways) traveling with you. And, on the other side of a green ditch or concrete wall, a parallel universe traveling in the opposite direction.
To break the monotony, we hit the side roads after several states, to see what serendipity might bring us. We mostly found the open road.
However, we did find obstructions you’d never see on the interstate. We encountered two lumbering cargo trains one after the other in a town that hosts the crossing of a north-south and an east-west line. We also found flood waters. Thnx to goo-maps we successfully detoured a couple of miles to a parallel route with an elevated right-of-way, and resumed our trek.
Out in the wee hours, with the chipmunks and the robins…I found this plastic fence almost glowing in the streetlight. Turns out the English word picket is from the French piquet, meaning pointed stake. Pike, as in the defensive weapon, is a related word. And the fish is so named for its pointy jaw.
The other day we enjoyed pesto from our Genovese basil. Tonight, we feasted on Thai basil added to Thai curry sauce, hauled home from TJ’s.
These are among the quotidian topics at this ranchero. Meanwhile, the country has moved a bit forward with grieving in Charleston, ending the escapees’ travel plans in NY state, and a(nother) Supreme Court ruling I didn’t expect (feeling very cynical about some members of that bunch; yea! for majority rule).
When I was taking this picture, I liked the various shapes, rounded and straight, repeated and random, best. When I downloaded it and looked at it “big,” I liked the reflection of the sky best. Now, maybe I like the dark red top of the narrow vase best—and the companion piece back by the fence.
I’m watching our photos smooth-transition by on our home big-screen, in random order, each of which triggers memories of wonderful moments we’ve had at disparate places.
I am 🍀.
Inviting via the negative. Indeed, we encountered neither insect, heat, nor humidity.
Also, good use of chalk colors on signage…. Here’s a decorated century-old chalkboard in the news today…. Pretty cool.
For birthday-in-the-family reasons, we ate cake! And celebrated!
LTEC = Let them eat cake
Spotted this airplane-car with the lovely fender-fairings tucked back in this yard and had to smile—what dynamic design.