Late

This is what part of a one-tenth (of an) acre city lot looks like where most of the plants in the picture can be eaten. And Magilla is diligently protecting the chickens, as you can see.

The larger tree is actually a cherry tree. And the smaller one is too. What a score. And I being the dufus that I am, thought that they were crabapples for the past two seasons and left the wonderful fruits for the belligerent, pesky starlings.

Peas, kale, chard, blueberries, salmonberries, raspberries, jerusalem artichokes, beets, lettuce, squash, potatoes - all can be seen in this picture. And this is only about six hundred square feet. And now all the fruits and veggies are ripe and there for the picking.

A really damp and cold morning with a clear, star-filled evening. But I forgot how one forgoes sleep in the summertime. By the time the sun goes down, and the fresh dinner is prepared, it is pushing eleven. And up with the chickens at 6:10 (like this morning) and listening to the CBC out of Vancouver makes for a pleasant entrée into the day. So to bed at one; up at six. Why do I always think I'll begin taking afternoon naps but never do? Oh well. There's too much to do in Bellingham to sleep at this time of year. I think my body, list most mammals, requires less sleep in the summer and significantly more in the winter.