White trash

Rain, rain rain. I got leek starts in before I went to Massachusetts, but it's
too soggy now to plant the rest of the onion starts. Luckily the chickens don't favor
onions because we haven't gotten them (the chickens, not the onions) confined to
their pen yet. I'm all for chicken-wire covers on the garden beds, but John
worries about the neighbors' gardens.
I talk about our home life at physical therapy, and my therapist nods knowingly and says "Oh, you're THAT neighbor."