After a wicked hot Saturday at the Ponca Herb Festival a day off was much needed. So after unloading the van and doing all the restocking and inventory paperwork (these are the things that are done on a day off around here) I changed into my field work clothes and went out for an hour of therapy.
Some folks walk for therapy, or run for therapy, or do yoga for therapy. But an hour weeding in the culinary herb bed is pretty fine therapy, if you ask me. Most of the herbs I planted in the new bed this year are doing fine. If you ignore the missing dill plants, the bed is a complete success. What dill plants? I don’t know. They are a distant memory. They don’t even enter my mind – unless I want egg salad.
I felt so good after the weeding I changed into my civilian clothes (meaning shorts without cargo pockets and a clean top with no holes or stains) and took my knitting outside to enjoy the view, the birds, the buzzing of insects, the breeze, and the shade. What a beautiful way to spend the afternoon. For several hours I sat and gloated over how pretty and clean the herb bed looked. I sipped a cold class of iced tea and work on my Generations Scarf.
The ball of yarn is getting small so I thought it was time to start weighing how much yarn each repeat takes so I’ll know when I get to the point of not being able to knit another repeat. While I was in Tulsa the other day I bought some pretty little glass beads that I think will look nice with the bright green yarn on the edging I’ve got planned. I’m using the Oklahoma Fiber Partnership Llama/Tencel in colorway Tall Grass Prairie for the scarf version of Generations. I love this green. Throughout the scarf there are occasional stitches of yellow-green or soft blue-green. Not many – not enough to distract from the pattern, just enough to make me smile whenever I knit one or two and move back to the main new-grass-green color.
Chris joined me after a while with his map. Whenever the summer heat sets in we start thinking about vacation in the fall. Where to go, how to get there. The plans usually change once or twice. The distraction and dreaming gets us through the heat waves though. (Did I mention it was hot yesterday?)
At one point the dogs began going wild with barking. All four dogs barking can cause a ruckus. Our house sets on the bluff above the Clear Creek as it bisects our farm. Four teenaged boys had decided to hike the creek from the low-water bridge/swimming hole upstream where the creek crosses the blacktop. We call it the slab. I don’t know what the people who crowd around during the summer months to swim call it – or how they know about it honestly. But word gets out I assume.
Just below our house the creek takes a turn along a bluff and there is a deep pool. That’s what we call “our swimming hole”. We heard the boys splash a few minutes while the dogs barked like mad perched above them. A shout about a “big fish” was heard, more splashing and then they headed back upstream to the slab. The boys not the dogs.
Finally the dogs calmed down and it was time to come inside for some homemade pizza.
This was a day well spent.