Thursday, April 18, 2013
We have a patch on one hill where nothing much grows. Because of this, and the bowl shape of the hill, every time it rains, we get a mini washout.
If Lee doesn't get up there with the tractor to scrape it smooth again, the little washouts get bigger. But then again, every time he scrapes it smooth, he damages what little vegetation there is on the hill. A vicious cycle.
The last time I went to Southern States to buy horse food, I asked about grass seed. I don't want lawn grass. I don't want a hundred pound bag of grass hay seed. Guess what? I can buy it by the pound. So I did.
Lee drove the Mule and I was the seed broadcaster. We used to have a walk-behind thing that sprayed out seeds or fertilizer.
We also used to have large cup that had a crank you could turn and broadcast seeds, etc. We no longer have them. They could still be in California, Or tossed. Or in a box somewhere. Who knows?
I have no idea if any will germinate. It is supposed to rain today and I hope it is a light sprinkle. At any rate we did SOMETHING. We have visions of birds eating and rain washing, but there is a chance that some little seeds will survive to hold that hill. Grow little seed, grow!