Mary, the rocks are mostly sandstone from a little, swampy quarry back on the creek. We were a the edge of a landlocked ocean at one time in the far distant past. A couple may be bits donated by glaciers. We have a lot of rocks, used to kid that they were the first crop - rock picking - every year. Backbreaking stuff. I'll have to see if I can find the poem about it.
We have a few gimps out there, but not as many as some. Grandpa and Dad always bred with feet, legs and udders right up there with production and we carried that on here. Funny to think there is over 70 years of artificial breeding out there walking about.
Dad's yellow flowers are out ( dandelions ). He always thought it was nice of me to let them bloom. They do go well with the forget-me-nots as a nice contrast. There are, of course, more than I thought I had. Maybe I'll get a kid to help me pull them. I tried to do some weed-eating yesterday and ended up all shaky. Allergies and bronchitis again and it's the pits with all this good weather. No rain in sight until next weekend, most strange for us. I'll have to save the dandelion roots. I found a recipe for a magenta red dye made from them and want to give it a try.
