As we turned onto the lane which approaches the Cane Valley property this forenoon I tried to stifle my apprehension at what the storm might have damaged. Coming up the hill we could see that the house was still there [!] and the roof where it ought to be.
Turning into the drive we beheld the welter of limbs that had crashed from the water maples and locusts which shade our acre. Both trees are fragile easily shattered wood, so it wasn't surprising that we had a mess to clear up.
I felt mildly indignant that three of the largest fallen branches were lying across a flower garden!
Flower pots lining the front porch had been overturned and a branch lay at the edge.
The yard was scattered with everything from leafy twigs to whip-like slender branches and some
good sized limbs.
In the backyard we discovered that the storm left us a 'widow-maker'--the large broken maple top caught in a horizontal position. The shabby half-dead locust to the right had a big limb snapped off and leaning upright against the trunk.
Seeing the house intact, Jim's next concern was for the garden, just around the corner from the
fallen locust branches.
A strewing of locust boughs blown down from the hedgerow.
Jim declared that the largest limbs couldn't be easily moved without first being reduced to shorter lengths with the chainsaw--which was at home.
He went inside to work on the kitchen trim.
I decided to gather twigs, small branches, anything I could haul off or load into the wheelbarrow.
Above is the result of 2 hours trudging to and fro dragging anything I could manage.
Surprisingly, locust limbs in full leaf are light in weight, but prickly in places.
At the end of two hours I was sweaty and tired.
I had freed the flower bed from the smaller branches that fell there, gently straightened leaning tree lilies and tamped them back into the soil.
When I went to the open sided shed for the wheel barrow I found it had nearly three inches of water in it.
Jim had left two paper bags of seeds in the barrow along with his hoe and disk planter.
We've all read the recommendation that for quicker germination seeds can be 'soaked overnight.'
The bottoms of the paper sacks let go when I moved them, dumping well-soaked seeds into the wheel barrows' bottom.
I fetched plastic containers to scoop them up and spread them on layers of newspaper to dry a bit.
Meanwhile, as you can see, Jim had nearly finished installing bead-board below the kitchen cabinets.
Our son Howard when he was here suggested the bead-board as a low cost and relatively fast covering for that area.
We pulled off an ugly wallpaper that had been applied over a rough surface that indicated the wall had been tiled at one time.
Corn and beans.
Jim slogged into the wet garden and planted these before we left for home--if they all germinate we shall be inundated with vegs!
When we reached home everything shimmered with rain.
I ejoyed a much-needed hot shower and clean clothes, then went outside for a few photos.
Lilies are bejeweled with raindrops.
Why do orange lilies [my least favorite color] proliferate readily while the white ones are slow to colonize?
Pebbles, serenely grazing in the rain, her fly hood in place.
[She's been known to rub the hood loose and shake it into the grass.]
The rainbow was fading by the time I thought to look for one.
Our house is in need of a thorough tidying--there are letters I should write--curtains to be finished for the Cane Valley house.
I manage to leave my kitchen tidy when we go off to our refurbishing, I keep up with laundry.
We've long since accepted that when we are out straight building or remodeling a house, eating lunch 'out' is part of the expense.
Since we eat this meal mid-afternoon I'm spared coming home and needing to prepare food and tackle another kitchen clean up.
Inspiration falters, my feet beg to be elevated.
The real labor and skills needed for the refurb are Jim's--I am a rather lowly assistant--painting areas that need to be 'cut in' without climbing on a step ladder, cleaning up behind Jim, tidying up tools and paint cans at the end of the day, pottering with my plants.
At some point the work will be done and I can sit down with a book--and stay awake
long enough to read it!