Hello, Poetry Month

A Time to Talk

Robert Frost

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, ‘What is it?’
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.


…and a little helper has arrived to my garden. She is too shy for me to get my camera out and get a picture yet, but while I was out looking at the winter’s wreckage, sitting still so as not to spook her, she suddenly dashed at me, head bonked me, and then ran a few feet away.

So I know, now, that she is not Snaggy. I held out hope for that, but this little black kitty had a large white spot on her breast, and still has her front paws. She looks like someone abandoned her, and like she has been out for months.

Now, a few days later, she has been trying to follow me into the house. So it would seem she has decided that I am her friend.

This would be the winter sowing that I managed this year. I doubt I will stop putting things out in jugs, although soon enough–I hope!–it will be too warm for true winter/early spring sowing. I’ll be doing it as it gets warmer in order to ensure that the roly polies don’t eat the seeds, and then plant the seedling blocks into the garden.

I did get some things started indoors, in more traditional ways, but unfortunately, I neglected to turn the grow light off when we went out of town for a few days, and so I came back to a lot of sunburnt seedlings. Some of them will make it, but others, well, I may start an extra set of tomato seeds, just in case.

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