Grit Blogs > The Theoretical Farmers Almanack

Moon Phases and Mood Phases

If you wou’d have Guests merry with your cheer, Be so your self, or so at least appear. – Ben Franklin  (Poor Richard’s Almanack)  

Broadway, Virginia; 29 degrees; 7:30 pm

The combination of light snow and a nearly full moon set the Schoolhouse on edge yesterday. (To clarify my connection with the Schoolhouse, allow me to insert the fact that since theoretical farming tends to pay in theoretical dollars, I am obliged to find supplemental income in the form of true, hard cash. In order to earn the money to nurture my theories, I spend roughly 180 days pontificating on the joys of the English Language to a captive audience with a median age of 12.)  But back to the subject at hand … normally sedate young teens were teetering on the edges of their seats, trying hard to conjugate verbs while surreptitiously ripping notebook paper into tiny shreds for part of an ancient snow dance ritual. Moon phases and barometric pressure definitely have their effects on mood and personality.

 roses in the snow 
The "last rose of summer" pushing through the dusting of snow. 

And speaking of moods, Edna is rather distracted today as well. In fact, she’s in such a kerfuffle she refused a second helping of Santa Fe Tiramisu and had only one cup of Earl Grey this morning. Poor woman just found out that cousin Effie from Culpeper is planning to visit next week. Now cousin Effie is a trial to contend with on her own, (not to mention her miniature poodle, Sir Winston), but blue-haired snobbishness and gourmet kibbles are not what is bothering Edna. Nah, what has Edna’s bloomers in a bunch is that fact that when Effie visits, she demands the south-facing bedroom; the one Edna uses to house her seedlings until late spring.  With the southern room occupied, the only place she has left to raise her fledgling plants is the little study on the north end of the house — a dank, dark, chilly place not at all conducive to photosynthesis. But anyone who has ever had the dubious honor of meeting the redoubtable Miss Effie knows that she is not one to contend with. I would offer Edna some window space at my place, but I really don’t have any room to spare… Oh well, I’m sure she’ll figure something out.  If not, maybe I’ll have a chance at the prize-winning tomato at the county fair this year.