It’s raining again. Half an inch in ten minutes could drown a duck! But the birds are all under shelter, as are we.* The past couple of days have been in the 90s and humid. We have been in the garden, racing time.

*Rain gauge the next morning showed an honest two inches.

Michael dug up red potatoes today. He soaks them in water and then sets them out to dry. Then they go into the basement, spread out on cardboard with a fan on them. Then into boxes for the winter. I rescued them from their bath today as the storm was coming. Sitting on the lawn in the heat, swishing potatoes in cold water, felt methodical and slow. Not in a boring way, but more as a meditation. The dao of potatoes. Who knew? Red potatoes are prone to have scabs, as illustrated by that middle photo. This year, most of the reds are scab free. All the better to eat with the jackets on!

We got the last of the garlic out the ground today, along with the final onions.

The Siberian White, a hard neck, had turned completely brown on top, which meant the paper was beginning to deteriorate on the bulbs. They will not save well this year. The other varieties were not as brown and had more paper left. We will use the Siberian White first, which we would do regardless. It’s just not as pretty as it should be.

The garlic got neglected as Michael and I were getting the onions out of the ground.

They covered our outdoor table space for a couple of (rainless) days.

Michael helped me get them braided this year. The next day he wondered why his hands and arms ached. Braiding onions takes upper body strength! Again, sitting in the shade in the warmth, doing the rhythmic action of braiding, proved a meditative and calming type of exertion. Digging them out of the ground was a sweatier endeavor.

We’ve been picking green beans daily, along with peas. Shelling peas for dinner gives me an excuse to sit for a bit. I love peas. The beans are delicious, but don’t provide as much of an excuse to take a moment for another one of those rhythmic, meditative breaks.

We have been reducing our duck flock. They have finally feathered out from the last molt. It makes them easier to pluck, and also allows me to harvest the down. Some day (when I have a sewing room) I shall make a down comforter. If you harvest the duck before fully feathered, the down will still be partially encased in a quill, which create sharp points. Not good for laying next to your skin. I always regret when I am unable to save the down. I’d use their quack if I could!

It is never all work and no play here. My daughter came and made us lemon-thyme ice cream. She forgot to pack part of her ice cream maker (ah, the chaos of a 2 year old in the mix) so we improvised with a wooden spoon and an electric drill motor. Worked like a charm. Yum!

It’s wonderfully exhausting to have children in the house, everything happening in double time. A lovely counterpoint in the rhyme of life.

More ice cream (with raspberry jam sent by my brother!) at the end of today. Sweetness in his thoughtfulness for sending it; energy we sorely need.