A few watermelons are beginning to swell. 2nd pea patch is germinating. A couple more Yukons from Lenore's peelings are coming up, but the others seems to be dead, so I plant some more peas in that spot. The onions pulled a couple days ago seem OK, so I hang them up in the garage.
I dig a few new potatoes, and consider, with satisfaction, how this is really working out OK. Some setbacks, but the whole industrial world could implode, and I would survive quite nicely, wouldn't I? Then I look at the potato fork in my hands, a gift from my Dad. This implement was made in a factory. Would it work to dig potatoes with a stick? And how would I fashion the stick, with no ax or chisel? OK, so I cannot follow my idea to the extreme. The Amish principle again comes to mind: draw a line, and don't cross it. Thus far, and no farther.
I dine sumptuously as usual on veggies and berries, but am running low on eggs and bread. Maybe a trip into town tomorrow. It's hot and muggy; thunderstorms predicted for tonight.
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