As the Spindle Turns . . .

I can say that its Sunday. And I got down on my knees for roughly 2 hours. As an inspiration, we started reading Small Gods by Terry Pratchett. It's the one with Brother Brutha and the god Om, who manifested as a turtle, much to his surprise, and was dropped by an eagle into a melon patch.



Unlike the discworld, my clay turned hard as dryness has fallen upon the land. I dug in some unusable, undyed fleece for compost and to retain water. The pot that held all the potatolings over winter is now finally off my kitchen table. The crab grass from one small 4 ft section is gone. It now has potatoes, garlic, and two lonely onions.



In the backyard, I have peas and radishes coming up. I don't expect much else. That late freeze was probably a killer. We'll give it a week and see. I did find slugs in the new raised bed. Not happy about that. Meanwhile, back in production, sock rainbows are being made. Winding and skeining to commence. Yesterday's excursion to Waynesburg's Sheep and Wool Festival was inspiring. I've got to get busy so I can have an awesome display too.