Almost Ready

Our book group enjoyed corned beef and cabbage for dinner last night in honor of the Irish author and subject of the book, Brooklyn, by Colm Toibin. (about Irish immigrants to New York after World War II). We also watched some of President Obama's nomination acceptance speech. Quite a lively evening

By the time I arrived at the farmhouse, OilMan was hard at work on a garden beautification project. Since our "garden" has been a mass of weeds in the summer and a mud hole in winter, we're trying to fill as much of it as we can with gravel, rocks and plants which don't need much water but don't look like weeds. A work in progress for sure.

Not feeling terribly energetic, I wandered down to the bottom of the driveway where there are tons of blackberry bushes. These have to be the thorniest plants in the state, reaching out and grabbing pants, sleeves, or if you didn't come prepared, bare flesh. I managed to pick enough berries for a batch of ice cream without inflicting too much damage, but after the preparation of the ice-cream, I look rather grisly, spotted and smeared with liberal amounts of berry juice.

We're expecting friends for dinner, one of OilMan's high school buddies and his wife who live here in town. He is still known as Skip, a name which probably suited him better when he was five but we're all so used to it that it still seems to suit him just fine. They grow grapes, make wine, grow olives and take them somewhere to have them cured and pressed, and will undoubtedly bring fresh eggs from Judy's chickens. She raises them from chicks which, she tells me, arrive in the mail!

We should be helping to pick the grapes in just a few weeks. Today's blip is of the pinot noir grapes, which have turned almost black,and are quite sweet and covered with netting to keep the birds, who seem to know exactly when they reach the perfect Brix level, from swooping in to harvest them first.