Today was all about garlic. As soon as morning chores were wrapped up and our bellies were full of a hearty breakfast, we headed to the garlic patch. There is supposedly rain headed this way, so our window of dry planting time is about to slam shut. Typically, once the November rains set in and the cooler temperatures are upon us, the soil conditions might not be dry again until next March or so. And a year without garlic would be unfathomable. Not only would it suck to not have garlic for our culinary and medicinal uses, we would also lose all of those years (and years!) of selecting and saving our own seed. So today, we planted and planted and planted. My thumbs are incredibly tender from popping the bulbs apart, my knees ache from crawling around on the rocky soil, and my shoulders… well. I guess what I’m trying to say is that the day was good and hard and honest and grubby. And the garlic is in the ground. And I’m ready for bed.

You’ll never guess the sweet music I hear right now… rain falling on the tin roof. The best bedtime lullaby I could ask for…