sandwich

In the middle of the night, lightening took over the skies. Thunder claps followed, but really, it was the lightening that made me turn on the bedroom lamp and give up on sleep for a while. I'm not a sound enough sleeper to withstand someone shining powerful fog lights in my face, nor can I sleep through a chain of lightening flashes turning the night into a Halloween spectacle. So I stayed up and waited and eventually the skies settled and I settled and Ed came up and soon enough it was morning. 

I almost sprinted in my eagerness to see what the storms had delivered! And what a disappointment! Less than a quarter of an inch of rain in our measuring cup. Really?? After all that flashing we got just a trickle of wetness in the garden? Now that's just plain frustrating. 

The rain must have come on with some strength though because many of the phlox blooms were knocked off the stems. It's bound to happen now. The flowers are transitioning to late summer. Still ravishingly beautiful, but more fragile now.

(late summer colors)

(very unusual for me color choices...)

Breakfast on the porch. 

And now what? No kids today, no real motivation to work much in the garden. An hour, maybe hour and a half and that's it. I no longer pay attention to detail. It's like the farmer who complained in a recent email newsletter that in spring, every weed mattered and now, a whole field can be taken over by weeds and you shrug it off. 

I spend a good many hours in my Adirondack on the porch, writing. Not the finished text -- I'm done with that for now, but something else. I'm experimenting with a new idea. We'll see where it goes.

But honestly, the day feels like the insides of a sandwich, the cheese or salami that's stuck between two pieces of stormy bread: we had one slice of storms last night and we're getting the second, possibly more violent storms tonight. In between, the air is warm and humid and we can't wait until the whole bit -- the whole sandwich of bad weather -- is done with. 

In the evening we move the cars from their parking space underneath the big willow. Those branches can come crashing down if the winds gust as fiercely as they're predicting.  And then I cook up some soup. I know, you're thinking that's really a weird choice for a hot muggy day. But my CSA farmers (Tipi Produce) suggested a recipe for all that corn and green beans and zucchini and I think it's a good one and it really is perfect for late July or August, because of the absolutely sublime corn: cut off the kernels and boil the cobs (with smashed garlic) to make corn stock. Then, it's the normal soup procedure. Sautee onion, add chopped green beans, then zucchini, then corn, herbs and broth. And a few chick peas! Cook it up, squeeze in some lemon juice and sprinkle some parmesan. Thank you, farmers. It's delicious!

Okay, it's back to storm tracking for me. Let's keep the roof on the house tonight, okay? We would so appreciate it!