September Abundance

Japanese Knotweed may be one of the worst, most invasive weeds, but I have to admit that they are kind of pretty when in bloom. These plants were sticking out of the top of the Mock Orange bush, so I broke them off after taking the photo:

 I trudged out to prepare a bed in which to plant the three new rose bushes when they arrive in April. I dreaded the swinging of the pick and hefting of the shovel. Then I realized that the tractor could do the job in a few seconds. First, I scooped out a trench between the Tree Hydrangea and the two new Morden roses (the Rose Mallows are on the far left of the photo):

 I dumped that bucket full of soil behind the barn and then scooped a heaping bucket of old compost. I brought it around to the front of the house and dumped it in the trench I'd just hollowed out. The only hand work involved was a bit of leveling the compost. It was a happy occasion except that the Globe Thistle I'd worked so long and hard to grow had died in that very spot. I tried planting Globe Thistle seeds and 12 roots, but only one plant resulted - and it died, dead as a doornail, in midsummer. Next April I'll give more hardy roses a try:

 I cleaned out the barn floor by first using a snow shovel to move it to the center, where once again the tractor could do most of the lifting for me. Remy came in to "help" me. He needs to be in the middle of everything:

 When I had Remy's seal of approval (and when he was satisfied that there was nothing to eat and no mischief he could perpetrate) he joined the cows out on pasture:

 A quick walk around the yard revealed a New England Aster plant blooming beneath the apple trees:

 And right behind the New England Aster, on an old stump, was this Turkey Tail fungus:

 I had to stop mowing near the apple trees, which were dropping apples all over the grass. Some were big and red:

 Some were smaller but more numerous:

 And the pear tree was so heavy laden with fruit that the branches were touching the ground. The Postman was pulling onto my lawn each day and helping himself to pears:

 And the weight of the fruit was so heavy that more branches were snapping off. A family up the road will collect and use the fruit when they are fully ripe, but there is so much of it this year that it's hurting the tree:

 I seldom notice the farm sign anymore, at least in the summer when it's hidden in the leaves, but one side of it is holding up well. The other side is peeling. When it's no longer usable, I'll bring it inside the barn and affix it to the wall as a decoration: