I take so many morning, even early morning, shots of this row of apple trees, of the field, and of the woods beyond (or just one/two of that trio) that I thought I’d try one in the late light-of-evening. Not so interesting, perhaps because the digital processing’s trying to make it a replicate a daylight shot. The result made me think of some savannah moments we had ages ago in bush camps in Tanzania.
Here’s the blue moon. Yes, it’s orange.
And the sunset light the opposite direction was also orange. [I’m cheating to call it an orb.]
Of course, now that the rain barrel is full from the periodic overnight and morning rain, the plants are well-watered and don’t need a top-up from the barrel.
Dew on a rhubarb leaf in low-angle morning light. Rain is expected after midnight, so it’ll be wet again tomorrow morning.
Grocery store report: I sometimes eyeball the varieties of B_sh’s beans. I hadn’t seen this one before. Well, I thought, looking at that “zero” that had been altered to include a…zero…standing in for an “o.” So clever.
But, how can it be baked beans with no “sugar added,” I thought, so what’s the sweetener…’cause baked beans have a sweet element. I checked the ingredients, and the second-to-the-last ingredient is sucralose. No molasses, no maple syrup, nothing else sweet. Sucralose is chemically altered sugar, that the food folk don’t consider as sugar. So that cute blue label is right by them.
Also in the fine print, the third ingredient is “soluble corn fiber.” What’s that? Modified cornstalk? And the first ingredient, as I’m sure you’ve anticipated, is beans, but “prepared navy beans.” And what does that mean? Ones who’ve been to test prep classes? Ones in full makeup? Or ones ready for the anesthesiologist?
That was the last label I read in today’s grocery store visit. I was exhausted, and almost ready to cook my own beans.
Rain filled the barrel the other day. Now, I’m watering out of it. It’s a cycle.
Lows last night in the upper 40s. No kidding. Tonight, the prediction is the low 50s.
Sometimes evening comes and the lake gets very still. Sometimes the moon hangs above the dock. Sometimes it all takes my breath away.
I do love this ground fog. We didn’t have it earlier when we were up here—not enough moisture out there. Today was NOT overcast, thankfully.
I got The Beast going this morning and got plenty sweaty. When I started the last of the fog was around. By the time I quit, the sun was out. I didn’t work out in the field, but instead trimmed scrappy areas near the cottage…scrappy because the lupines are dried, and the grasses (etc.) are yellowing and browning. Autumn is coming.
A bit of garish from the deli cooler at the GrowSto, just to shake up your eyeballs. Apparently all-red sells better than multicolor. We managed to depart without either variation.
Today was Day2 of overcast; tomorrow may be the same. Not inspiring. Nice to not have wind, as you see early this evening.
I got the thistle terminology wrong on Tuesday. The spiky parts are prickles, and my derived word for the entire plant was prickers. Still is (in my head).
Five is a cupcake birthday. Today’s highlight was without a doubt a fifth b-day party. Seven adults and one b-day boy…who slept for half an hour before waking (slowly) to open his presents…while waiting for the adults for finish their leisurely dinners. All is well. He liked the rock-decorating kit best, I think; it came complete with rocks (and glitter, googly-eyes, paints, etc.).
Tromped through and around in the field and discovered that the infestion of these thistles has, big surprise, increased over last year. I also discovered that my work with The Beast, while it didn’t eliminate the invasive grass, it did keep it from going to seed where. I cut. However, I didn’t manage to cut all of it down, just most of it and the thickest patches. I’ll take that progress, though.
Little known fact: I called these plants prickers when I was a kid. I must have gotten that term from The Botanist. It’s the technical term for the wee and annoying thorns they sprout on stems, leaves, everywhere.
Apologies to Sky Watchers: dull overcast during the final daylight hours; no even boring sunset.
UPDATE Apologies to botanists: the thorny parts are called prickles; I in turn created (pretty sure) a term for the whole plant: prickers.