Spring Progress

There is a bluebird house in one of the old apple trees. Son-in-law M. advised that one must clear out the old nest before the birds can move in.  Sure enough, this morning there was increased activity around the little structure. I can imagine Mother Bluebird having peered in yesterday and stating flat out that she wasn't going to houseclean someone else's muddle before taking up residence.

The curling roof shows the age of the birdhouse.  The perch peg is missing so J. stuck in a twig.

It is remarkable to think that none of the builder's scraps of lumber could be moved with us--nothing with which to make more birdhouses!

Rosy new leaves on an old apple tree.

Part of the 5 acre piece which J. has been rotovating. The local people speak of this spring effort as "turning the ground."  It has a homey sound as though from an older time.

The 5 acres was formerly in tobacco.  This is the nearer end of the field which stretches over the rise and along to the boundary of the farm.

A neighbor's house in the background. I took J. a glass of ice water to reward his labor.

Tiny slender violets in the grass of the field.

J. is so pleased to be "farming" even on a small scale. For those who need to know, the tractor is a Massey Ferguson 250 diesel model.

The old tobacco barn. [All tobacco barns seem to be in the "old" category.]  The vine clambering up the side may be kudzoo--or something equally tenancious.

J. and I are non-smokers who dislike inhaling cigarette smoke, particularly in eating places. We aren';t going to raise a "cash crop" of tobacco!

The scent which hangs on the air near the old barn is a pleasant one, mellow and rich, especially in the heat of the afternoon.

Fellow gardeners can imagine my joy at discovering last week two clumps of peonies. You can also imagine my horror and cursing when I watched J. unwittingly run over the edge of one clump with the truck!  I have set a chimney block there as a reminder lest he do it again.

I had to leave nearly 2 dozen clumps of peonies beneath the snow at our Wyoming home, some of them with sentimental value. I will be ordering peonies to live with these already in residence.

It must be said that I did not amount to anything significant today.  I think the rigors and stress of moving may have caught up with me at last.  Or--could it be that I'm so ancient and decrepit that a day or two of digging and working in the yard has done me in? [A rhetorical query, that!]