Peace on the Farm

There's lots growing at Red Robin Farm these days. These are just a few pics. My biggest Cherry Chocolate Tomato bush has two clusters like this, and more coming:

Our big fig tree is starting its yearly bounty. I can't wait to make 

fig preserves this year and pick the fruit right on our deck!

The herb bed is looking very happy, even after our little flood when it was submerged. The borage is shooting up. It's all quite healthy. I might move the chamomile and chervil to a shadier bed if they begin looking weary in the sun. But May is quite cool this year, so they're good thus far.

Adam bought a couple of lemongrass stalks at the Asian market in New Bern. After cooking with it a bit, it sat in a glass of water on the counter. Later I noticed it had rooted in the water nicely, so I transplanted it into the herb bed. It made the move very well.

On the other hand, a few of my 65 in-ground tomato plants were quite peaky. Look at this pitiful thing:

I would have yanked it out by the roots but for that one piece of fruit hanging on. It's hard to kill a plant that's trying to please you. But yesterday we did yank out four, and their root systems were just pathetic. We replaced them with four healthier ones from the greenhouse. Adam thinks this patch of bed has a nitrogen deficiency.
Two days ago I turned a pot of this:

Into this:

It's been so quiet here this week. All our kids are off doing their thing elsewhere. Even Julia is on a road-trip with Peter. They're traveling all over the east coast. I know they were in NYC, but have no clue where they are the past couple of days. As long as they're safe and having fun, that's the goal!

All that to say, it's been peaceful and slow here. A slow rain falls today. I've sat in the cedar tree's shade with Ned and felt the calm of God's good Earth around me. Lately, this poem by Wm. B. Yeats reflects my mood (except I would not live alone):

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree
And a small cabin build there of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean rows will I have there, and a hive for the honeybee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear the lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the road way or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the heart's deep core.