First, I had to share the beautiful roses with you. Unbelievably, the whole bouquet only cost a dollar. As I was walking into the grocery store the other morning, there were two shopping carts of bouquets at the front door, all marked down to a dollar. The clerk explained that their due date had come, and so they had to mark them down. Some of them were in very good shape for aged flowers! I bought the roses and another bouquet to surprise someone. What a bargain.
The Mister is abandoning me on Saturday for a sawmill expo in West Virginia. That's fine, he was more than flexible while I cavorted with my guest a few weekends ago. Besides our "day jobs", my husband grows trees at a managed wood lot (think strategically-planned forest) which he then harvests for wood fuel and timber. Hence the interest in sawmills and all things wood-related. If you wanted to classify it as farming, it would be tree farming, with our harvest being timber and fine woods.
It seems that in late spring, all of the forestry expos start up at once to take advantage of the milder weather. Since most of these things involve log splitters and other heavy machinery, it stands to reason that much of it needs to take place in the outdoors. And they are always located at least five hours away, so it is always so that I am home alone for an entire day.
"It's not too late. You could still stay home," I say teasingly.
"It's not too late, you could still come with me!"
Ach! No thanks! How terribly boring. Yes, there are women who go with their husbands, sometimes pulling the children along in a Berlin wagon. But they can't fool me, I know they are bored. I would rather keep the wheels turning here and stay up waiting with a re-heatable supper.
About once a month, The Mister will go out to the hydraulics shop in Lancaster on business, and it always works out that I cannot go with him. Not that it's so terribly far that I could not go to the county on my own if needed. Lately I've gotten smart and started sending along a shopping list. "If you pass a Dutchway store..."
In the winter I become a different type of sawmill widow. When the woodland floor is hard and dry, and the cold is sharp and biting, you might find my husband spending whole days out there working on logging projects while I am once again "home alone on the prairie" as I like to say. An exaggeration, of course. There's too much to do here to even think about being alone. And in the grand scheme of vices a man could have, there are ones much worse than trees.
In the Garden: Peas are finally here, ready for the harvest starting now. With all of our cut-lettuce and big heads or Romaine, we've been enjoying endless fresh salads. According to the booklet that came with our everbearing strawberries, they are not suppose to be producing this early on their first year, but somehow have small green fruits. Wonder what I did wrong...
In the Kitchen: Haven't decided whether or not to start canning sweet cherries. My husband prefers the tart ones that ripen in July, but my best pie is made with the sweet.
Still Reading: A Time to Live, by Jerry Eicher. A fictionalized account of the failed Amish settlement in Honduras. And for fiction, it has a lot of accurate details. Some of you would be able to pick out whose who. Good story.