Blood, Sweat and Tears Food for Thought Life in the Country
by Alice
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It’s the Equinox!
There has been an aphid invasion here. They are covering every surface outside. Sit down at the picnic table and they try to cover humans as well. Ours have attracted a ton of wasps and bees that seem to be feeding on them. It is all part of a natural cycle, so no, we’re not out hosing down plants or trying to poison the bugs.
I looked up some information on aphids and discovered they are WEIRD, but really neat. They can have babies inside the babies inside themselves (telescoping generations). They have sexual and asexual reproduction, with live babies or eggs.
I don’t know what is happening in this part of the state right now, but there are swarms of several kinds of small flying bugs that I can’t identify. I’ve never seen this happen before. They are in the city, outside the grocery store, so thick that I don’t want to take a deep breath.
What the butterflies see...
On our run through the country yesterday, when the muggy heat finally got me to stop for a minute, J and I were covered in little delicate flies of some sort. They were everywhere, stuck in our sweat, our hair.
We saw our second rainbow of the year as we ran. The clouds were threatening and I wasn’t sure we’d make it home before a storm, but they only menaced.
I’m sore and a little tired today, but feeling much better. I’d far rather live with my body sore, but my head clear. I don’t feel crazy now. I’ll trade some pain for whatever that was I just went through any day.
The garden is down to okra, hot peppers and Zinnias. The hummingbirds abandoned my mother’s home a few miles to the east, but they are here feeding on the flowers regularly. The squash are still trying, but mostly losing the battle to live and reproduce.
Jimmy is the only one who eats okra. I would, but that slime…I have a weak stomach when it comes to anything that snotty. Even he is three pickings behind, with a garden waiting for harvest.
Jimmy has posted my hammock tent article on his backpacking page.
I saw an article on the people with the four best memories known. I had to read an article like that. I came away frustrated. Why are any of these people working menial jobs? Even slightly more important, but commercial jobs?
What does it say about our level of progress that we can identify such a talent and then leave that talent to babysit kids? These people should all be treasured, studied or put into positions that make the best possible use of their exceptional trait. I’m sure there could be found a marriage between what any one of them enjoys and a vital application of their skill.
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