Well, the onions in my pantry think it is Spring. The weather has been rather indecisive, switching between winter and summer with a only a few hours of pleasantness in between. I hadn’t even opened this bag of onions yet. I briefly thought about planting them, but I have no soil prepared, and have had abysmal luck with growing onions in the past. So I freed them from the bag and chopped up the sprouted bulbs. The outer layers were rather gooey and I discarded them, but the inside still had nice crisp onion bits. The sprouts themselves taste just a little stronger than scallions, so I chopped them separate and will use them for my egg drop soup. The rest I tucked into my freezer for use later, since I don’t use three onions at a time. Though if I did, I would probably get my six feet of separation without having to ask, or sidling quietly sideways. That is one recommendation that I already practiced pre-pandemic, as I have a very large personal space.

Because this cracks me up.

We do have some real fall color, where people have planted maple trees in town.

We are getting a lovely cool stretch here in Texas, meaning the night temperatures are reaching down into the 60s, and the highs barely touch into the 90s. Cool enough in the morning that I was inspired to get out and clear some of my woodland paths with the trimmer earlier this week. I was able to reclaim the already established paths fairly readily, but I’ll need clippers and more time to open up more avenues.

I did find some surprising nasturtium patches in the middle of the lot. They are leggy, but the area is mostly shaded, so that isn’t surprising. They are in an area where I did not plant nasturtiums. Hm. Apparently they found a better location. Go flowers go.

The poison ivy and chiggers are thick in the woods and meadow, so a thorough shower and hot water wash of the clothes I wore was in order.

While walking around the outside of the coop and runs, I saw a pretty plant with purple buds. I plugged the picture into iNaturalist and received an ID: nightshade. Specifically silver-leafed nightshade. When I went back out to pull it away from the coop, the distinctive purple flowers had bloomed. Definitely a nightshade. Rather than risk the chickens having a nibble, I removed the plant.