ramblings from an arkansas farm girl
Dear Sunday Letter friends,
Happy last Sunday of August. What?? Yep. Craziness. I agree there is still much to learn about coronavirus, but one thing I believe (in this world where conspiracy theories are all the rage)—coronavirus makes time weird. Either molasses slow or quick as a snap.
Sometimes both in the same day.
This was supposed to be my “Savoring April” post. The one where I recap April. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted from the rain. And I’m happy to move on to May. I’m expecting TONS OF MAY FLOWERS. Aren’t you? April showers promise that much, you know.
We received around 15 inches of rain the past week which has resulted in flash flooding. The fierce storm is moving on across the country leaving death and destruction in its path. I’m always fascinated by the calm before the storm, not to mention the rainbow coloring the back end. Not that we’re done. If this morning’s wind and dismal skies are any indication, we seem to have more bad queued up.
Maybe T. S. Eliot got it right when he said April is the cruelest month.
For the most part, I can celebrate April. I savored the month with friends and family, book clubs and library events, and lots of time working in the garden in between rolling thunder. April brought a family reunion potluck and Easter ribs from the Rendezvous in Memphis. Like they say, you can’t beat that with a stick.
Here’s my recap in pictures.
So a quick rundown for posterity.
You’ve probably heard a persimmon seed can predict winter weather. I love good weather folklore and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to check this one out for myself. Of course since we are in our first week of October, the results are yet to be confirmed. Thank goodness. I’m not quite ready for winter. Are you?
Before I get to my persimmon seed prediction, let me say, this all came about because I went for a hike yesterday (which I’ll tell you about in a future post). On this hike, we found a certain area filled with persimmon trees. And the trees were absolutely loaded with fruit. I took a few home to do my experiment this morning.
Cutting open a persimmon seed is no easy task. Continue Reading
