The smokehouse and the barn at The Farm.

Forty-eight years ago, I became a mother. Forty-eight. I don’t understand how she got older than me but she’s a keeper and I’m so proud to be her mom!!!

This whole week went by so fast, I lost track of the days. We are in heavy grass growing season with all the rain we had in the last ten days so that means more mowing. Mr. FixIt went to town on Saturday to help a friend with some plumbing and I stayed home and knitted. Then yesterday was mowing day at the farm.

One of our first tomatoes of the season.

We bring our push mower out to cut the ditch out front and the edges where I can’t get the riding mower. As Mr. FixIt was making a space in the bed of my truck, I went into the garage to put a folding table away and bring out the mower. I was reaching to lean the table against something when I lost my balance a little. I reached out to steady myself on the garage refrigerator and got the edge of the door…not the side as I intended. The door opened and away went my brace. I tumbled forward over the push mower and into the riding mower. I really wrenched my pinkie on my right hand and have some bumps and bruises, but I don’t think I broke anything except my pride. The first thing that went though my mind is when the doctor’s office questions me at each appointment. “Have you had any falls?” They only started asking me that at the last couple of visits. I’m…of a certain age. 

*sigh*

We have an old John Deere at our disposal about at the farm and when I say old, I mean ancient. But man, when they say nothing runs like a Deere…they aren’t kidding. We have a heck of a time getting it started. I ended up running the battery down, so I disconnected the gear box and pushed it down toward the house so we could jump it with the truck. I got to where the round started sloping and called for Mr. FixIt to come push me so I could ride down and have my foot on the brake. It wouldn’t do to have the tractor run into the creek!

Japanese Lantern Plant

Before we jumped the mower to start it, Mr. FixIt lowered the mower deck for me. It’s been mowing too high and you can hardly tell you’ve gone over it at all. Once that was accomplished, we jumped it and it started up without too much trouble and runs like a big dog. The grass was thick and damp and we were cutting it pretty short, so there was a lot of clippings in clumps on the lawn. I ran over it and over it several times till they were all mulched up. Mr. FixIt ran the push mower and we were finished in short order.

We stopped at the little neighborhood market on the way home and got a package of “Buzz Buttered Steaks”. This is a local delicacy that I’ve enjoyed since my childhood. As a matter of fact, I was a genuine grown up adult before I realized a “steak” wasn’t a frozen square ground beef patty with a pat of butter on it sold six to a box in the freezer section. These things were staples at our house when we could afford meat and they really are SO good! In the late ‘70s, someone stole a panel truck with several tons of these beauties on it and were fat and happy when they got caught. The whole incident put Buzz Buttered Steaks on the map and they enjoyed quite a boost to their sales. I was amazed they still make them. We don’t get them very often because I like to stay away from processed foods, but every once in a while, we like to indulge. We sliced up a home grown tomato and a Vidalia onion, topped it off with a generous slather of Duke’s Mayonnaise, and had a right proper summer supper.

Pumpkin napping on the kitchen window sill.

I only have about eight inches of the second sleeve to knit on Big’s sweater, then the front placket. Today we mow here at the house. The family arrived safely in VA Saturday night and they’re having a big time already. I can’t wait to see them later this week. I’m taking all kinds of goodies down with us! It’ll seem so strange to see them all outside of Colorado. 

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“But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.”

1 Timothy 5:8 ESV