Yesterday evening, we picked our first of several harvests of wine grapes. While Dad never made his own wine, he did love a full bodied glass (or two) of red.
This morning I dug potatoes and pulled up onions. Dad used to love doing this. I dug potatoes with him many times.
This afternoon Alistair and I retrieved a tree that I later planted in memory of my dad.
I have been stuck on what kind of tree I wanted to plant for him but when we were up visiting GG last week, she remarked on some beautiful black locust trees that she called "mourning trees". I thought this fit exactly what I was looking for and moreover, locust trees are exceptional bee trees. As luck would have it, I found someone giving away volunteer black locusts from their yard. I traded a jar of honey for one. Our new tree is a little droopy from the shock of the relocation but I am hoping that with some TLC it will recover. I planted it near the goat barn so Dad's tree can grow under the watchful eyes of the goaties and vice versa. The tree, and with it Dad's memory, will also keep me company every morning when I milk.
I heard somewhere that when your heart hurts, it is a sign that you really loved someone. I think my heart might need one of the boys' superhero band-aids today.
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