I changed the name of this blog. We were told that the locals called our property the "Hootin' Holler." Perhaps it was because there are a lot of owls back here in this hollow (holler to the locals) where we live, and their hoots echo all across the hills that surround our house. Perhaps it was because anytime you shout or even speak loudly, the sound echoes back to you.
We are having snow showers off and on today. It was 21 degrees when my hubby woke up early this morning. Hopefully the strawberry plants survived. It has warmed up to 40. I think global warming has a lot to do with the extreme up and down temperatures that everyone is experiencing these days, and the droughts and flooding. Hopefully this summer we won't have a drought, although we are fortunate that our spring kept running and we were able to water the garden with the spring overflow.
We have a gray fox coming out to eat some old cat food that we're throwing out. He (or she)usually comes after dark, but he came earlier one evening and I was able to get some pictures. He comes every evening and often times the raccoons come also and they eat together peacefully.
We're trying something new for this year's garden. We did not till it this year and we divided it into four sections that will be rotated, and one permanent section for strawberries, onions and asparagus. We put black gardening cloth all around the inside of the garden fence and also used it to section off the garden, which will be covered with hay or straw to create permanent walkways.
So far I've planted radishes, carrots, spinach, turnips, turnip greens, collards, peas, onions, broccoli, cauliflower, and cabbage. Soon to be planted: strawberries, asparagus and lettuce.
Even though it is hard work and back-breaking, I love digging in the garden to set the plants and sow the seeds. The sun is warm and not HOT like it gets in May onward through the summer here in the south. The birds are nesting all around and it feels like a new beginning, which it is.
Our pussy willow bush is popping out in catkins. Recently on a rainy day, I took some close-ups. Until you look at something up close, you really don't see all of its beauty. Up close, the catkins look even softer than they are. I like the way each raindrop in the one picture reflects the rest of the bush.
Rabbits cookin' coffee -- that's what the locals call it. But here in this little hollow in East Tennessee, when the hills surrender their misty hostage to reveal the stalwart cedars growing by the stream in our pasture, I know there is no place on earth I would rather be. The welcome mat is out! Come and sit on the porch and chat with me awhile!