May...maybe it will, maybe it won't.

May is a month of uncertainty in any year.  This year was no exception.
Will it rain?  It May.
Will it be warm? It May.
Will it be dry? It May.
Breezy?  Yup...that's a given.

With the promise of a real Spring, garden centers filled with people and with great flats of lush, green garden plants.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again, "IT'S A TRAP!"  But this year, even more than in years past, people have fallen for the lure of garden plants at the big box store.

The stores, eager to take your green backs, are happy to push whatever you want to take home, knowing full well that May will eat every effort you put into your plants and spit you out like an unripe grape.  They know you'll be back to replace and replant your failures.

Except for cold weather crops like lettuce, peas, or cabbage, nothing goes in the ground here until at least June 1st.  While plants are happy and green at the garden center, they have also just been yanked from massive, toasty green houses, with grow lights, and attendants that see to their every need.  They're put on trucks and delivered to box stores within 48 hours where you buy them and take them home, shove them in the still cold, poorly prepared earth, and expect them to thrive.  Nope. Not going to happen.

If you bring them home, be prepared to keep them warm, feed them, watch for and treat disease, and yes, even prune them.

This year I decided on just tomatoes, 50 tomato plants, in fact, and one row of silly sweetheart cabbage just for fun.  I planted one row of mustard seeds just to act as bait for the horn worms, and then I'll seed the ditch with the seed this year.

Flat after flat of tomato seedlings filled the potting shed shelves just waiting for June.  I let them get lanky for deep planting.  With nothing much else to do after planting the apple seedlings, I loaded up the truck with my trusty 5 gallon buckets and shovel and headed to the county compost soil site.  The county collects yard waste all year and then spends all winter turning it into black gold, free for residents to haul off, as much as you want, free of charge.  It's awesome.  I loaded up the truck with my treasure, and on the way home stopped short to avoid a run-a-way driver, dumping many buckets of black earth inside the truck.  (Better than an dented truck.)  Luckily The Boy is good with a shop-vac, and loves me enough to detail the inside of the truck.  Phew.

I used the dirt to amend all the planting rows in the garden and worked in a mix of epsom salt, worm castings, egg shells, and ground baby aspirins to make for strong and happy tomato plants.

We managed to get a pair of broody hens in May.  Sadly, we think our rooster is getting up there in age and, while still dancing and having the eggs show as fertile, none of the eggs have made it to hatching.  Some of the girls are getting rather old, and we've done nothing all spring but treat for Northern mites, which are brought in by wild birds.  We've already lost two girls to the tiny blood suckers, so we'll need to think about chicks soon.  Yet another commodity that is hard to find.

In project land, under the heading of 'anything other than mask sewing', I purchased a Cricut machine to make my own business decal for the truck and it has turned out handy for other fun projects, despite the fact that it is not Chromebook friendly and any project takes me twice as long as it should.  But they do turn out nicely in the end.  I made a bee warning sign to go by the beehives that were recently moved closer to the garage.  I made name and birthday signs for the boys, a decal for the truck, and 'do not spray' signs for the ranch.

Speaking of mustard from the paragraph above.  I finally got around to dealing with last year's harvest that has been drying in a paper sack all winter.  I got it in my head to make a batch of mustard with it.  I now wonder why this stuff doesn't cost $100 and ounce.  It took me hours to remove the seeds from the prickly pods, and clean the chaff out.  Then it needed to soak in vinegar for two days and then get pureed.   IT was really good and hot.  But OH removing those seeds!

On a day trip, I stopped at a favorite local candy shop. I was pleasantly surprised to see that they had renovated and expanded.  I was thrilled to find root beer from our alma mater.A great, and sugary box of sweeties was shipped to my niece and nephew who were still in a locked down state. And a 6 pack of root beer came home with me.

 The lack of Spring festivals, events and parties is making the weeks and months feel even more odd.  March didn't feel like March. April didn't feel like April, May isn't feeling like May.  Norwegian Constitution Day came and went without festivities and feasts in the great church halls.  No picnics were had, no dressing up, no parades.

 Like I said, I moved the bee hives.  They are now in a VERY sheltered spot and I hope they do better there.  The light blue hive is the hive from last year.  We lost the bees in that one this Spring with the last great freeze.  Even though they had plenty of pollen enriched food in the hive and plenty of insulation, they simply couldn't cope with the last great cold snap.  We had several nice days, and then slammed down to 20 for several hours.  They actually just dropped.  It's sad to loose a whole hive.  Many around here lost 30% of their apiaries.
I have plans to purchase one package of bees with a queen from a man just up the road, so cross fingers that that works out, as I missed the deadline to order more bees from California.

Another day trip, and I came across a gas station that was shut down and remodeled into a much needed village market!  Just look at all that gorgeous fruit and veg!   Fresh local beef inside as well.

May also brought the end of the school term and the ramp up of the ubiquitous ZOOM staff meetings. Bombed by farm animals, of course.

And June is fast approaching, so you know what that means!!!  SHEARING DAY!

Just look at that CRIMP!

Doc and I went out and noticed the boys weren't going to make it to shearing day to get their nails clipped.  They were crazy long, thanks to the fortified feed they get.  So we haltered each one up and marched them to the new small animal chute I built and everyone got a pedicure.  Of course Angus, Oh ANGUS, didn't want anything to do with his halter, or being led anyway, and he's unanimous in that.  He ran, bolted, kicked, spit, and basically pitched a fit, all with my hand wrapped in his lead.  All was rocky, but good, until we got inside the barn, when with one great burst of energy on his part, he slammed my left hand into the steel stall door lock ripping it open down to the tendons.  I won't show you that picture. Trust me it's gross.  I washed it out, put on some Vetericyn chicken spray, a piece of gorilla duct tape and my work gloves and got back to it.  It took a solid month to grow back over, and only I can see the scar, but ooo that little bugger.