When you are insane, you get the idea that cutting the lawn by hand with trimming shears is a great idea. If you’re sane, it’s not something that crosses your mind. But the grass around the tofu cabin has turned into tall grass. It’s more a wild meadow than a lawn, a fact my husband keeps reminding me. But the chickens like the tall grass. And the tall grass looks like it would be great nesting material if cut nicely and dried.

Ruby is curious what I am doing. Often if I am out by the tofu cabin, half the flock comes out to investigate what I am up to. But it’s only Ruby who spends the afternoon with me, seeing what the crazy one is doing.

For her it’s an opportunity to find things to eat in the cut grass. Most of the time when chickens are pecking at things in the grass, it’s impossible to see what they find. Tiny beetles, mites, spiders, ants, basically anything that moves is what they eat.

A lawnmower would turn the tall grass into pulpy mulch. The sharp shears cut the grass clean and make it easy to rake into lovely windrows. In less time than you imagine, I have a fluffy windrow of cut grass. This should make great nesting material for the hens.

There is a thick, soft blanket of moss at the bottom of the grass. I’m sure it will feel lovely against a hen’s tush. The robins (Turdus migratorius) sure love it. They’ve carted sheets of moss off to make thick, plushy nests. There is a doctoral thesis waiting to be written: “Impact of nesting material on the survivability of robin chicks.”

Speaking of things doctoral, remembering the scientific names for animals and plants can be difficult. But the scientific name for robins, Turdus migratorius, sticks easily. Think “migrating turds” and you’ll recall Turdus migratorius in a flash.

Another windrow. These will dry nicely in the sunny summer days. I just need to figure out a dry place to store them before the rains return this fall. But when you’re insane, the possibilities are endless.

It feels like the first real weekend of summer. I slept in too late to try and see the comet, Neowise. At 10 last night it was still too light to see it. I should set an alarm for two in the morning on a clear night so I can see it. A patch of shungiku, Chrysanthemum greens, is perfect for picking. This is probably my favorite green to eat.

Magentaspreen are up in force. An onion in bloom with it’s little cap is proof that summer has arrived.

And I had a chuckle when I opened up the primary ballot that came in the mail a few days ago. There are 36 candidates running to be governor. How many hours is it going to take to research all those candidates? It’s something to think about while I putz about in the garden.

Summer seemed to have started this weekend. I’ve got pictures to prove it. Summer here usually doesn’t get going until after the 4th of July. Sunday morning, the views on Chuckanut Drive were as summery as possible. The dogwood in the woods is in full bloom. Thimble berries are ripening. The hydrangea buds are opening.

Thankfully, thimble berries don’t ripen all at once. It’s a strategy to entice seed spreaders and gardeners to come back often to graze, and to wait to trim their overgrown branches. What gardener in their right mind is going to trim a thimble berry dangling bunches of yet to ripen berries?

Frequent sightings of garden snakes prove that it is indeed summer, though today’s cloudy skies and chilly air, and a forecast for more cool days to follow, make me doubt it.

We are well into summer, though we’ve yet to feel much warmth. It’s still chilly at night, and it’s only on sunny days that it feels warm.

It’s been warm enough for at least one thimble berry to ripen. A few more weeks and we’ll be gorging on these delicate morsels.

Each flower has its own strategy to get a bee to pay a visit. Some flowers put out sprays of small flowers making bees flirt from flower to flower, spending a second at each.

I watched the bees on the Japanese Stewartia. The Stewartia strategy is to put on a feast and get the bees to spend a long time in each flower. How much more can that bee eat and gather? I wondered as I watched the bee bury deep into the heart of the Stewartia.

To love flowers is to have a broken heart. Most of them last for such a short time.

The longest days of the year are here. It’s still light at 10 p.m. when I go out to put things away before bedtime. The summer solstice always comes too soon. Every day there are things to make me smile and laugh.

These days, I don’t get to see Snow but once every few days. Today has been three days since I’ve spotted her. Most of the time she’s on her nest, but where is it? I’ve looked all around the pond for it for several weeks.

I knew from the way she hissed and spread her tail feathers when I got too close to her that her nest was nearby.

I got curious when I saw her head out across the grass.

And when I saw her sneak into the burn pile, I got my answer. She has her nest under the pile of brush we’ve been building. Two days ago I nearly set it ablaze. It was a good day to burn the brush. If I hadn’t seen her sneak into it this evening, we may have lit the pile in a few days. I’m so relieved I found out where her nest was before it was too late. Disaster averted indeed.