We bought an old Armagnac Farm. Most of the stuff on the farm has been sold at auction or pilfered by various people. There are, however, some very cool barrels. A friend of ours recommended pushing the end down and planting veggies near the kitchen. Brent grabbed one of the barrels and stuck it outside our kitchen. It seems to be a perfect place for herbs. The sun hits it hard in the morning and backs off in the afternoon and evening. I ran a little experiment with a few potted herbs to see how they did in that location. They were all very happy except the basil. The basil plant was a bit fragile to begin with, so I think the seeds I will plant will do fine. I grew basil at our old place in a planter that could double as a bread oven. The basil was fried all day long. With enough water it worked out.
We happen to have a GREAT source of really good “soil.” Really good soil is actually aged cow poop mixed with straw. We also have some fresh “pats” left over when the Mirandaise where chillin’ in the stable. So today, I grabbed the fresh stuff to fill the bottom for aging and I will grab the black gold for the top layer for the herbs. Well I supposed it’s brown gold really. Now to do this you must know that there is a special “poo fork.” In french it’s called fourche à fumier. See, even “shit fork” sounds great in French.
I didn’t quite finish because Brent needed my help to mess with the zappy fence. The girls have been so great doing their cow thing. Brent has been giving them fresh grass to eat every day or so. They have an entire lake for their water supply. The lake fence gave them plenty of room to hang out. On most days, we see the mob “hanging by the pool” (B. Curtis, 2011) after their morning munch. They really enjoy it there.
It does make us laugh to watch them figure out their way to get into the lake as though it’s a new discovery each time. It has that similar “oh a castle!” goldfish feel to it. It’s short-term memory in action. It’s like:
Look a lake!
Ooooooo, a fence.
Hey! An opening!