hot but lucky

Oh it's hot alright. No sitting out on the porch today. I'd stick to my chair. But honestly, every year brings us a few readings in the 90sF (so above 32C), and we are staying in the low 90s, and only for a couple of days. So I see it as typical summer weather. (But we need some rain!) (Though thank you for banishing the mosquito population from Madison and the farmette this year -- we deeply appreciate it!) We are grateful that the air quality is moderately good and the storms are not touching us (so far). I'll take hot for a few days.

But it's crispy and dusty out there right now. It kept me inside for breakfast.

Where is Ed? Asleep. His work has completely flipped his sleeping habits (what habits...?). Last night (is it even fair to call it night?) he came upstairs to sleep at 6 in the morning. I protested that this was starting to interfere with my sleeping cycle, but my words had little impact as I then promptly fell back asleep. For another hour or so.

Oh, there is early morning garden work of course. And flower photos for you (and me).

(right now, one of the most colorful views is when you first step out the door...)

The lilies are rapidly diminishing in number. It is, after all, the end of July. Too, they had an earlier start this year. I expect there to be one or two hundred each day for the next few weeks. That's a small number when spread over ten beds. 

 

 

 

(A late summer garden spider - the agriope (rhymes with calliope) loves the lilies)

 

 

(secret path...)

 

 

 (Big Bed: a  little of this, a little of that now...)

 

Still, late July and August have their own crispy charm. I start letting go of my gardens then. I watch them slowly recede and fold up for the year. There's a calm in the late season that you appreciate after the frenzied hurry of spring and early summer. Sort of like being a grandmother who no longer has to worry about the daily needs -- physical and emotional  -- of her offspring. You come in when you want and retreat to rest when you need to put your feet up. 

Mustn't get too restful though. You're still needed, albeit at your slower speed -- both in your garden and with your grandkids, or at your jobs or projects. Indeed, in the evening, Ed goes out to water the new trees we planted and I turn my attention to Primrose in Chicago. She and I talk about corn: she's eating some, I'm fixing some. I will bet anything hers is from Wisconsin!

And at dusk, I go out to do some spot weeding. I clip off spent stalks, too. No more buds for this year. Many of the plants are just done.

All the more reason to love what's still going strong.