An English In Kentucky


















Monday March 25th 2019Tim Candler9


    A perfect March morning. Very little wind, not cold, alive with birdsong, compost turned, on track with the chores, no debilitating seasonal injuries and a fine dribbling sky. What more could a gardener possibly ask for. Unfortunately its an illegible list, handwritten in blunt pencil on a scrap of what might have been newsprint lodged in a coat pocket that got damp. And it's a strange thing for person to leave his coat on a fence in a perverse attempt to persuade the ethers to cause rain, but at least there was no dancing around, chanting or any other kind of the sacrificing our species has been prone to in moments of rain stress. 



     Trying not to complain, it was a little over a tenth of an inch of rain, the coat is shall we say elderly, it's been called "little better than a old ragged tea towel that needs to be burned" so it's entirely possible the ethers reacted accordingly, and very typical of them to totally ignored the intensity of the relationship a gardener shares with his gardening coat. It has a brass type zipper that occasionally works as good as new, not like plastic zippers that have a lifetime warranty of around six days. Next respectable chance of rain in the forecast is this coming Saturday, and in the end it's the old reliables for a genuine Potato Rain, such as leaving open the window of a pickup truck that work best. 


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