A Morning in the Garden and Squeaky tales

The temperature went to 86 degrees today. It was almost too warm for a spring day, but it was lovely in the morning.
I decided to go down to the vegetable garden and thin the lettuce.

 I can't believe the nettles. It's everywhere. It has reseeded all over the vegetable garden. I couldn't thin some of the red lettuce because I didn't have my gloves with me. This is a re-occurring problem of my own doing. I hate to wear gloves. I like to feel the soil between my fingers.
 I tried to pick around the nettles. (You can see the new nettles growing in the red lettuce below.)

I immediately felt that awful stinging sensation as I pick out some of the lettuce. I couldn't do it without touching the nettles. I tried thinning another area and left with a handful of lettuce for the chickens.
Looking over at the other raised bed that was filled with nettles I said to myself, "I will be down here tomorrow morning with the Prospector's gauntlet gloves and a long sleeved shirt. You are toast. There will be pumpkin seeds planted in this spot, my stinging friends, and you will be compost."

The nettle just sat there waving at me in the morning breeze, looking beautiful and green.
Tomorrow it will all be gone and I will have retrieved my vegetable bed from its clutches. I hope.

I took the handful of lettuce up to the chicken coop and threw it into the enclosure. The hens were so excited. They love lettuce. Squeaky, our banty hen, ran around them grabbing a piece of lettuce and running to a corner, squeaking the whole time.
I went around to the big door and into the hen house and Squeaky greeted me through the chicken entrance.

She expected me to bring a special bunch of lettuce (just for her) like I do with the scratch. I didn't have anything "special" for her this time and she was obviously miffed.

 She kept squeaking at me and running around.
"Well, Farmlady, where is my "special" serving of...?
 She walked over to the feeder with the egg maker grain in it and acted like she couldn't reach  into the feeder... like it was just too difficult for her.

She normally has no problem.
"Come on Squeak'. Don't be such a drama queen." I said.
I went over and checked for eggs. There was one in the big box. A pretty, light brown one.

  The Roadies had been laying this morning, all ready. Good girls!
Speaking of Roadies, one of my old red hens came in and started for the feeder. Squeaky saw her coming.

The Roadie was just looking for more lettuce but Squeaky thought the big hen was on the attack.
That's how Squeaky is. She always thinks the sky is falling..

 Squeaky got that look on her face... that wide eyed, deer in the headlights look. She whirled around...

and hightailed it to safety, behind a storage container.
Oh Squeak' What am I going to do with you. Life is just not fair and fears can be disabling , real or not.
See you tonight... I will bring some "special" scratch... just for you.
I promise.

Attack of the Killer... Weeds?

 Look at this.

You would think that I fertilized these beauties wouldn't you?. They're all over the place and they are so healthy looking.
I think this all happened in the last forty eight hours or so. Honestly! They weren't here a few days ago.
OK, that's not necessarily true. But I haven't been outside that much because it has been raining and all of a sudden... THIS. 

.. as if the weeds decided to conquer the world... my world at least.
Yes, I did pull some a few days ago and I swear that they are here again... in the same place, looking bigger and greener.
It's alarming how fast they grow.
There's a scary screenplay idea, out there in the dirt, waiting for some  movie director with foresight, like John De Bello ( 1980? Attack of the Killer Tomatoes??), to jump all over this.
I can see it now. Killer Weeds Strike Back... The real story. 
 Records for "first weekend" sales would be broken. It might be bigger than The Hunger Games.
Maybe I should give the idea to Suzanne Collins (the author). She could write the screenplay. 
I know...I think that I have been computer-izing a bit too much this winter. I need to, as they say, get a life.
But...The weeds are everywhere.

They are flowing out of the containers...

... cascading down the hillside and undermining my integrity as a gardener.

I have the healthiest crop of Stinging Nettles that I've ever seen in the vegetable garden.

And I didn't even have to plant the seeds.
A friend told me that I can make tea out of these plants and cook them, like spinach. But, I think I'm going to pass on that. I have to get rid of this stuff. It's reseeding and every year there is more. Maybe I should put a sign up down on the highway. You know...

Free Nettles

Pick Your Own

(bring gloves)

Must be good soil in that bed. I want to plant some pumpkins there soon, so I will be the one who will "bring gloves" and pull these invasive plants out.

 The lettuce is coming up in the other bed.

And my divided iris are doing well.

 The goats are working as hard and fast as they can to keep the weeds at bay.

 But that's not in the vegetable garden. These goats are down the hillside. Note the two fences between them and the veggie garden. Double fencing is a functional solution for these big guys when vegetables are involved.

Brownie, in his glorious youth, got into the vegetable garden twice. That's why we are without a fig tree. It was pruned into nothingness. That's why there is a double fence.

Murph' says,

"I'm not partial to Nettles. With all the wonderful, Springtime selection to choose from, it would be my last choice. Even with our reputations, we goats do have a refined palate and prefer the soft, small plants with flowers.... and Fig leaves... and baby lettuce leaves as well."

Good grief, Murph'.

That's interesting, my strange and enigmatic goat, but please,,, JUST KEEP EATING THE WEEDS.