Summer is fabulous. I love it, we love it, for the beauty, fun, joy, pleasure of being outside. Summer brings us close to nature. We need it to sustain us in the months when being close to nature is difficult, drab, unpleasant. At the farmette, summer was a little spoiled by the mosquito infestation. Deer flies as well, but really, it was the mosquitoes that almost forced us to move to a better location. They really affected out outdoor time.
At Steffi's House and Garden, mosquitoes are not an issue. Yes, you'll feel them at dusk, in very modest amounts. I can spend hours outside and not be bothered at all by biting bugs.
But now we have the wildfire smoke. We had it last year too and it was awful. I blocked it from my memory. This year it's worse. Hard not to face the fact that suddenly outdoor time has been cut short.
The garden is planted, so working out there is purely for maintenance, and plant adjustments. And watering, because we are in the thick of a very long dry spell. But of course, this is the time where we reap the joy of being among plants. Of breathing in their fragrance. This is when you take longer bike rides too. Morning walks along paths that lead you through prairie land popping with the colors of cone flowers, into forests with that gentle sway of heavily leafed branches, providing shade on a warm day.
All of it has suddenly been taken away from us. And yes, I understand that for many this isn't just a question of pleasure. Kids go to camps. Adults go in and out all the time. Many work outside. Dogs need to be walked and they cannot wear masks.
So go ahead and tell me that mitigating climate change is a bunch of hyped up liberal nonsense. I dare you. I may punch back at that one. I really may. (Or, go ahead and blame Canada. Always easy to point a finger at someone else. As if we ourselves have done "all we can" to arrest the overheating of our planet.)
Millie slept well and though she is very very far from being herself, her post-surgery slump is sweetly affectionate. It's hard to understand why dogs trust their humans so wholeheartedly, no matter what. I caused all this pain by taking her to the vet. The vet made her miserable: coming out she was (in terms of pain) far worse off than going in. And yet she completely believes that I am there to love her and care for her. That I am the one that makes it better, not worse.
I eat breakfast inside. Of course I do.
The porch is basically off limits except for necessary watering and of course, I need a mask for that. I already have the longest post-cold lingering respiratory stuff known to human-kind, I don't need to make it worse.
Millie is on meds that make her a bit lethargic so it's not too difficult to crate her. I need to move one plant and water the tomato pots and cedar planter. I do it hurriedly and without great joy. The air is that bad. We are currently in the VERY unhealthy range -- first time ever for our location in south-central Wisconsin. And no, it doesn't make me feel any better to know that Pennsylvania has it far worse -- they're past the "hazardous" (meaning deadly) range. I didn't even know there was a post-hazardous point. What could be worse than deadly?
The day is spent Minding Millie. I suppose that should be the title for the next ten days.
I do keep an eye on her just so we can avoid the whole cone around her head thing. And frankly, she strives to be always within petting range. Whereas before, slinking under the couch was her place to exhale, now she is on the couch with me, asking openly for a cheek rub or a gentle cuddle. You have to feel sorry for the sweet girl. Dogs don't get explanations, nor do they understand time. "This will pass" is meaningless not only because they don't speak our language. There is no later. There is only now.
(girls in pink)
I use this opportunity to rest up. Weeks of craziness are catching up with me and in the absence of more physical labor today, I feel... tired. (Working takes your mind off of fatigue.) I doze off. I wake up and read. Reclining positions are very appealing. For her and for me. And I finally decide to buy soaker hoses. The weather forecast shows no rain in sight for days (weeks?) on end. I dont want to have to water by hand Steffi's Garden every day. At least not all of it.
In the evening I cook, Ed comes over, we watch our British farming show. There you have it -- an indoor day if I ever saw one. In July no less. On the upside, Millie is delighted to have me on the couch for long stretches of time. Within eyesight. No effort required to track me. She's not disappointed!
with so much love...
