It is far harder to leave a farmette for a long spell than it is to leave a condo. There are the sitters to arrange. House sitters. Cat sitters. Garden sitters. No, forget that, let the garden develop on its own. But grass sitters for sure.
We’re leaving Thursday and I still have a handful of exams to grade. How did that happen?
In the meanwhile, we are in the thick of a heat alert. Last night, the second floor of the farmhouse was toasty warm and predictably, we fell asleep downstairs. At 3 at night I woke to find Ed on the floor, myself on the small couch and Isis, the cat, on the large couch. It was an awkward time to disinvite a comfortably situated cat, but I did it. Go outdoors, already! I pointedly brushed off the couch, to demonstrate that there may well have been a cat hair or two that needed my instant attention. By then, the upstairs was cool enough for a restful sleep and we finished the night in a more suitable sleeping arrangement. In case you hadn't known, Isis does not have night privileges at the farmhouse.
In fact, surprisingly, the farmhouse does have air conditioning. But I don’t like air conditioning and I doubt that I will have the need for it so long as the night temperature dips below 80. For all the windows, or perhaps because of all the widows, it actually stays quite cool. Except for the upstairs at the end of the day. In Mediterranean homes, there would be shutters to close against the heat of the sun. I don’t have that, but believe me, upstairs curtains will be drawn today. You know, those nice, delicate linen curtains with a delightful sway at the slight whiff of a breeze? Better delicate linen than nothing. (A commenter suggested an attic fan: yes, that is a project that remains in the state of arrested development.)
In the early afternoon, I began the grueling job of painting the porch.
Outside, the bees buzz, the dragon flies dart and the flowers are beyond sublime.