Now I’ve taken road trips before, and have driven along the highway where the fields were all rolled up dotted with haybales.  Conceptually I understood that something agricultural had been done.  But I really had no idea what “hay” was.  Nobody wants to sound like an out-of-town greenie.  So, when we had these discussions about the fields, I kept using the word “hay” like I knew what it was.  Secretly I was googling to discover that hay is just grasses that grow in fields.  Translation…I didn’t have to plant hay.  It was going to grow.  And somebody wanted it and could use it. 

When we first moved to Kentucky, it was such a shock to our systems.  Everything was new, different.  Different doesn’t mean bad.  It just means different.  And I lament that you can only experience a “first” one time.  Because of course, the next time you experience that thing, now you’ve seen it before. 

Let’s just admit it.  I hate weed barrier fabric!

Garden cloth, landscape fabric, whatever you call it, I call it “broken promises.”  This product is something you purchase with the hope that it will do as advertised.  But alas, it is only a temporary stunting of the indominable weed.  In fact, I’m convinced that what it actually does, is create the perfect firm foundation for those relentless tiny weed seeds to anchor their roots to.  Try pulling the weeds that will now grow directly out of or on top of that cloth.  Mighty hard.  

I’ve always enjoyed reading Homesteading stories as they tend to deliver a heaping helping of “you gotta hear this” and “say what?!?” and “oh, no you didn’t!”  Real life happening here.  And I do love to tell a story, but some of this stuff I don’t even think I could make up.