I read Poisonwood Bible in the fall of 2001 and Prodigal Summer the next winter or spring. I've been meaning to read more Kingsolver, and when I recently came across an essay about genetic modification--about a lot more than that--that reminded me again. I started Small Wonder Wednesday night and Animal Dreams this morning. I got a late start to the day, watching the bedroom darken as clouds thickened in the sky, reading in bed. The child not understanding her parent's love and the relationship between the sisters is going to make this book hurt and work for me, I am sure.
By the time we finally got up this morning, woke up, and breakfasted, it was almost noon. I love weekends. By lingering in bed so long I missed the best sun; I rolled Blake in front of the windows to watch and scream as I worked in the garden (because of the porch, he could only see me when I stood up). High Country Gardens said cutting back all the shrubby stuff was fine, and I am confident that that's what the Nepeta x faasenni and even the Agastache rupestris wanted. I also cut down the spires of the Salvia pitcheri but I am not at all sure that's what it wanted. I was to cut down the sage as well but leaves are budding on last year's growth. This is the same dilemma I have with the raspberry canes: buds on last year's growth. Did I wait too late to cut them down? Or will there be leaves but no fruit on those canes?
I brought in some kindling for the fire we'll start in a bit. My brushpile is just that, and with the addition of the cherry and pine branches, I should turn it over so the seasoned wood is on top. The blizzard hit cedars the worst; the deciduous trees didn't have leaves yet to hold a heavier load of snow and I guess cedars' denser needles hold more than slicker, longer pine and spruce needles.
Damn amputations. I recently watched "Gone with the Wind" and decided, Tuesday night in Home Despot buying a new pruning saw, that I would probably be as tormented as Dr. Meade performing a similar duty. But, I am gratified to report, his patient's terrible pleas did not pop into my head until well afterward, as I sat in my garden clipping shrubs (about which I feel much less guilty and worried about pain).
The sun gave up before 2, so in I came. RDC came home with groceries, so we can hibernate, and mineral spirits and cheap brushes so we can apply the linseed oil I bought should it ever be warm again (ha!), and some Widespread Panic (I knew it would only a matter of time for him). Plant catalogs and a fire and Animal Dreams await me. I love weekends.