The Good, The Bad, and the Almost Downright Ugly

I am thrilled to report that the hummingbirds have come back to our feeders!  The two we have are attached with suction cups to the window in the morning room overlooking the deck, as you can probably tell in that photo on the left.  The larger one (a bottle feeder...not pictured) is glass and quite heavy when filled with sugar-water solution (which I make myself:  4 parts lukewarm water to 1 part sugar, with a few drops of red food coloring; stir to dissolve all the sugar; keep any leftover in the 'fridge until needed). 

The smaller one (shown in the photos) is glass, too, but with a fluted metallic top, in the shape of a flower.  A clever design by a Tennessee artist, Mr. T found it at the Apple Barn in Sevierville and gave it to N/M/E last Christmas.  The hummers seemed most interested in it at first...as are the ants that have a constant trail up the window sill and panes, no matter how many times he has washed it off with either vinegar or Windex...or both.  Now, the hummers are paying more attention to the bottle feeder for some reason.  Same solution in both.  Guess the novelty has worn off.

That's my good news.  That, along with the fact that my SIL LaD has been discharged from the hospital today, heading home.  Not that I equate the two events.  No, I combine them both as my good news 'cause I know that LaD loves the birds...and especially hummingbirds...as much as we do.  She'd like being in the same paragraph, I think.

And, now for the bad news.  I have to report that I've not been in my garden since last Sunday.  And, we are all suffering for it.  You see, I was using my scuffle hoe (called an Action Hoe at Home Depot; marvelous invention, BTW) to weed the Left Garden (the one on the left of the center path...hence the name The Left Garden).  Mr. T and I had spent Saturday removing the damaged corn stalks (remember the windstorms of a couple weeks ago?) and weeding The Right Garden.  Got it looking good again...and planted some English peas in a couple of the resulting rows.  Anyway, I had worked my way down the first row of the Left Garden about mid-day on Sunday, turned the corner, and then it happened.

But first, a pause to paint you a picture.  At the beginning of this second row, I have a new bed I am preparing for next Spring's carrot crop.  After reading about a similar idea in one of my garden books from Jerry Baker, I tilled up and double-dug an area about 3 feet x 8 feet, creating a large trench about 8-10 inches deep; added a bottom layer of leaves; covered the leaves with newspaper, to aid in the composting process; covered the newspaper with a mixture of sand and garden soil, mounding up the soil on the "trench" to create a raised bed of sorts.  Then, to keep this area moist and attract earthworms...who are great composters in their own right...I topped the bed with two unopened bags of garden soil, laid end-to-end.  Neat, huh?  Will be a great place to grow carrots, which need much less compacted soil than our native clay.

Unfortunately, the same principal for keeping the earth moist (putting the unopened bags of garden soil on top of the bed) encourages the growth of a whole host of weeds.  I was scuffle-hoeing the beginning of the row, then started to edge under the bags to get the offending growth when...

Have I ever told you how much I hate snakes?  Fear them?  Am terrified of them?  Have nightmares about them?  Well, just in case I haven't mentioned that fact, I'm telling you now.  I. HATE. SNAKES.

My hoe touched the first bag of garden soil, and out from the gap between the bags slithered a black snake.  "Slithered."  That word just says it all, doesn't it?  Thankfully, he headed in the opposite direction, toward the wood pile in the back yard beyond the picket fence.  I stood, frozen in place.  I am pleased to say that I did not do what I have done in the past when encountering a snake in my space:  scream bloody murder.  My heart was racing, but I calmly made my way back to the garden tool rack on the far side of the garden to replace the hoe, stopped by my work-bench to pick up my gathering basket with the harvest of tomatoes, peppers, and peas I'd collected earlier, then slowly walked through the gate and back into the house.  No, no pictures of the event were taken.

I decided to spend the rest of my afternoon putting up my day's gatherings.  And, I watched my snake from the safety of the kitchen window over the sink where I was working.  He had made himself quite at home in the pine needle-mulched area around the wood pile.  Mr. T went out in the back yard a couple of times, to observe him a little closer.  He asked me if I wanted him to try and kill the snake, but I said no.  I know that a black snake is helpful in keeping the rodent population under control.  And, I know that he was probably more scared of me than I was of him.  I know, I know.

I have moved past "the only good snake is a dead snake" to "live and let live."  So, I have grown.  Still, I cannot seem to make myself go back into the garden.  You see, I am battling a life-long fear here.  When I once encountered a snake in the back yard of our house in Cordova, I tearfully (and, OK, a bit irrationally) told Mr. T to "sell it.  Sell the house.  I'm not going back in that yard ever again."  I know I need to get beyond this 'cause the weeding won't wait...it's only getting worse out there with all the rain and warm weather we've been having.  And there are probably tomatoes, peppers, and peas going past prime.  We are missing out on all that tasty produce.  Too bad.  I'm not ready to be a Big Girl yet.

And what about the "Almost Downright Ugly" mentioned in the Title today?  Well, that refers to my favorite shoes for the garden...or just about anywhere for that matter.  I found these babies called TerraSoles Echo Crossband Ballerinas at Sam's Club earlier this year.  I was more attracted to their ease of wearing and their origins than to their beauty. They are made by a company in Ohio, located in the same town we lived for a few years in the late 80's-early 90's.  It's not every day you see the place-name "Pickerington," so that instantly caught my eye when I spotted it on the shoebox.

Bought a pair of black ones and have since returned for a pair of cool blue suede ones.  They are not exactly the prettiest pair of shoes I've ever owned, but they are definitely the most comfortable ones.  The soles are like recycled tire treads (that sounds worse when I write it), the uppers are a combo of micro-suede and bamboo, and the innersoles are clouds.  Honestly, I could wear these things 24/7/365.  And, because they are washable (I kid you not...in the washing machine, as well as under the garden hose...:), I can!  I keep them on the screened porch, at the ready for me to slip into to make a quick trip to the store, or to go get the paper in the morning, or to go work in the garden.  Then, when I'm done, I wash any dirt off with the garden hose.  Voila.  Clean again.  Every now and then, I add them to the wishy-washy with a load of towels.  You're supposed to take the innersoles out and hand-wash separately, but I keep forgetting to do that step.  No matter.  Just let'em air dry for a couple of days, and you are back in business.  Ahhhhhh.

It's not that the shoes are that ugly.  Well, you be the judge of that from the picture, above.  No, it's the tan lines I've acquired while wearing these darlings of garden that qualify for that designation.  Since we are going on vacation soon, I've become more conscious of how ridiculous my feet look.  No, really.  Check out that shot on the left.  Not only are the "big" tan lines visible...the little "holes" created by the criss-cross straps on the Terrasoles are quite prominent.  What'll I do when we head to the beach or the pool?  Wear 15 SPF on the upper part of my feet and 30 SPF on the toes?  For sure I'll have to do something, or you won't be able to tell the difference between the color of my toes and the color of my toenails (which is called Mango, Mango...:).  Ouch!

One thing I won't be doing.  I won't be going barefooted into the garden to even out my tan.  Not anytime soon.  Not by a long shot.  No way.  No how.

Friggatriskaidekaphobia

Lest you think I should wash my keyboard off with soap after typing that title, let me share its definition from the ever-helpful Wikipedia: 

"the fear of Friday the 13th is called friggatriskaidekaphobia, frigga meaning "Friday" and triskaidekaphobia (or paraskevidekatriaphobia) being a word derived from the concatenation of the Greek words Paraskeví (Παρασκευή, meaning "Friday"), and dekatreís (δεκατρείς, meaning "thirteen") attached to phobía (φοβία, from phóbos, φόβος, meaning "fear"). The word was derived in 1911 and first appeared in a mainstream source in 1953."

I, too, first appeared in the mainstream in '53, but I digress...

Follow the link and find way more than you ever wanted to know about Friday the 13th and the origins of phobia, including the theory related in Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code about the day the Knights Templar were virtually eliminated by King Philip's forces in France:  Friday, October 13, 1307.  Made for a great plot link in that excellent novel.

I personally like the notation that:

"(h)owever, some experts think that it is relatively recent and is a modern-day invention. For example, the superstition is rarely found before the 20th century, when it became extremely common. One author, noting that references are all but nonexistent before 1907 but frequently seen thereafter, has argued that its popularity derives from the publication that year of Thomas W. Lawson's popular novel Friday, the Thirteenth, in which an unscrupulous broker takes advantage of the superstition to create a Wall Street panic on a Friday the 13th."

To whit, I say pish, tosh.  Am I going to stay indoors, afraid to be out and about, afraid to even get out of bed, just because Friday happens to fall on the 13th day of a month?  That's going to happen at least once each year...and possibly as many as three times, like in 2012...and, I'm personally unwilling to release 24 of my precious hours to that fear, much less 72.  Heck no...I just grab my lucky rabbit's foot, walk around the block with my mouth full of water without swallowing it to be 100% safe, then kiss my wedding ring for good luck and go!  [You do know I'm just kidding, right?]

Anyway, I could never, ever call this particular Friday the 13th "unlucky," no matter what.  You see, today we got the news that SIL LaD, who has been so very, very sick this week has made a remarkable recovery.  I even got to talk to her today...and she sounded fantastic.  Hooray and hallelujah!

Now, if only my MegaMillion$ numbers could come in tonight, I could prove how lucky Friday the 13th can be.  You'll be the first to know...!

Lost: 10 Days. If Found, Please Return.

Don't call out the gendarmes just yet.  I haven't fallen off the face of the earth.  It may just seem that way since I've been silent for several days.

It all started Monday, two weeks ago today, when we got the news that a cousin in Nashville had died.  Wendell was technically a cousin-in-law, if there is such a thing; but as Betty Jean's husband of over three decades, he was "family."  He'd battled esophageal cancer for many months, and as Brother J (who'd gotten very close to Wendell during his illness) said "it was time for him to go home."  Visitation was scheduled for Wednesday, with the funeral service on Thursday. 

The calls and emails began to fly.  Mr. T said he could get home early from his MD/DC/DE trip, and BFF AW said she'd be on hand to provide interim coverage at home (since N/M/E couldn't make that long drive) that would allow me to get on the road to Middle Tennessee by noon on Wednesday.  I booked a room for two nights with Brother J, as did Missy M and Brother T, who (along with Ella Rae) would drive down I-65 together from KY.  And, even though I didn't exactly leave HPNC on time, I made it to visitation, with about 4 1/2 minutes to spare.  And, no...no speeding tickets were issued to me in either NC or TN.

It's sad that it takes a funeral to get us together, but at times like these, we need to be with those we love, don't we?

Speaking of being with those we love...I took this photo of the three black dogs:  Ella Rae, Ellie Mae, and Buster, standing at the deck door at J&J's house.  That first night was tough on both the E's, as they each barked at the slightest noise in the house.  Kind of like dueling barkers.  One would bark upstairs (Ella Rae), then the other (Ellie Mae) would have to answer from downstairs. Made a good night's sleep an elusive dream to us humans. 

Oh well, that's what strong coffee is for, right?

After a pot of some potent Maxwell House, Brother T treated Missy M and me to a scrumptious breakfast at the Lovelace Cafe, heartily recommended by Bro J and SIL J.  I chowed down on a huge slice of their country ham...their claim to fame, along with their biscuits, which are hot and light, and great with butter...even though I am not a fan of their preserves and jams: not sweet enough for me.  Still, we enjoyed the food and the conversation before heading back to the house to get ready for the funeral.

I do not exaggerate when I say it was one of the hottest days of the year.  And humid.  Rained while we were inside for the service; then the clouds cleared away to allow the blazing sun to beat down on the puddles of water to create more hot and humid conditions.  In fact, so hot and humid that the funeral home staff had set out a cooler with ice and bottles of chilled water at the graveside.  Much appreciated by all.

Very little sleep.  Hot.  Humid.  And, did I say that in my haste to pack for the trip, I left my "vertigo-prevention" essentials (a cortisone-based nasal spray and the medication that helps keep a balance in fluids) at home?  As Mr. T said, "the perfect storm."

I was pretty wimpy that evening, but thankfully I did make it home before I got knocked off my feet with a full-blown vertigo episode...and, thank goodness, it has been a mild one, as episodes go.  Still, I've had several days of remaining horizontal (albeit with two pillows under my head...:) with BPPV.  Bit better now, thank you.  Slowly trying to get my life back up to speed, shall we say?  Had 164 emails today when I checked my messages for the first time in over ten days.

And my garden?  Oh dear.  While I was sleeping with vertigo, a terrific thunderstorm blew through with 65 mph winds...taking out the rest of the corn crop and flattening the flowers and tomatoes...stakes, cages, and all.  As I said to a friend, what's next?  Locusts?

We did do a little work this weekend when it was cooler (relatively speaking) and I was steadier, but I have much more ahead of me to repair the damage (Part 2)...and to get the rows ready for a Fall planting of greens.  Still, lest you think it's all bad news from the Way Back, I wanted to share these photos of some of the harvest.  A big beautiful cantaloupe, some slices of juicy tomato; a basket of peppers, corn, and squash...with a mess of purple hull peas; and a cold, sweet Jubilee watermelon...which you've seen grow from a tiny tadpole.  Yum!

Damages*

*No, this post isn't about the FX show, Damages, although I wouldn't mind saying something about it.  I got hooked on that one a couple years back, by watching a marathon of the first year.  Glenn Close plays attorney Patty Hewes to perfection.  And, Rose Byrne is great as her protege (well, in Season 1) Ellen Parsons.  Ted Danson, Martin Short, and Lily Tomlin...all excellent in dramatic roles, all receiving Emmy nominations for their parts.  The presentation of each season is the same:  starts with the present time; flashbacks to past, gradually moving the flashbacks forward to catch up with the present in the final show of the season.  You really have to keep up, or you'll be lost as a goose...and have to wait for the marathon after the season ends.  I guess, however, I should be using the past tense, since the finale for Season 3 was such a wrap-up that I imagine there isn't going to be a Season 4.  Too bad.

Instead, I'm posting about the plural of damage. Damage...as in destruction.

We had a terrific thunderstorm on Tuesday.  Lighting, lots of thunder, torrential rain (.6" in the rain gauge), more thunder, and wind.  Oh goodness, the winds.  Clocked one gust over 45 miles per hour at PTI, they said.  It must have blown through the Way Back on its way to the airport.  Can you tell in the photo to the right that those are my tomatoes...and their cages...on the ground?  In all, 12 plants were uprooted and suffered damage; I stopped counting at 100 lost tomatoes (in various stages of green-growth), not to mention the worlds of yellow blossoms that would have become tomatoes.  Sigh. 

Just about broke my heart when I began the rescue-and-repair on Wednesday morning.  Took me a couple of hours to get the cages back up and in the ground, and all the damaged stems/vines trimmed and removed.  I also had to put several stalks of corn back in the ground, as they had been blown over.  I have a good crop of bicolor corn so far, and I would hate to think I'll lose all those lovely. sweet, juicy kernels...not to the lack of water, but to wind?

After noon, I headed to Home Depot (my "home away from home") for some 6' stakes, which I will use to secure the cages and plants.  I'll have to get up at dawn tomorrow to get the stakes in the ground, as we are under a heat advisory for the rest of the week:  we are at 91 today, with a heat index of 100; the air temperature for tomorrow is predicted for 97, with a possibility of 100 on Saturday.  Gotta get the gardening done before 10:00 a.m., for sure.

I did say "damages," didn't I?  Plural.

I'll start this paragraph with my sigh.  Sigh.  This is one of those "you can't win for losing" kind of situations.  N/M/E, who has a variety of health issues due to her primary diagnosis of "you're 90" (as you may recall from an earlier post about what our family doctor said...:), is facing a dilemna.  She takes Celebrex for her arthritis pain (along with several other pain medications for her back pain, etc.) and has for several years.  Now, two of her doctors have become so concerned about the results of a recent (early June) blood test that they have ordered her to stop taking it.  Stop. Taking. It. NOW.  Both of them had their nurses call here this week to discuss their concerns.  One of the docs (not the one who prescribed the med., by the way) went so far as to remove it from her prescription list in her medical record.  Just wiped it out.  What's going on here?

Well, if you are savvy about NSAIDS, you will know that kidney damage is a threat for long-term users of those types of medications.  You will also be aware that the reason we (and I am including myself in this group) continue to take Celebrex in spite of the threats (and there are others) is that there is no other medication that is as effective with arthritis pain and is as well tolerated (read that:  that doesn't cause stomach problems).  We've gone through all the other NSAIDS, without much success.  What to do, what to do?

N/M/E has had to make a choice:  live with some more chronic pain vs. risk permanent kidney damage.  She's going to try life without the Celebrex for the next couple of weeks, then have some more bloodwork done.  That way, we'll see if it is a cause-and-effect going on...or, if there is something else in play.

Big sigh.

Interestingly enough, I have to say that she seems to be feeling a good bit better this week.  After our visit to Dr. K this morning, she said she felt like going out for lunch...something she hasn't felt like doing recently.  She also wanted to go to the Farmer's Market for some fresh NC peaches, since she's heard so much about them on our local news channel.  Two birds, one stone.  We had lunch at the Moose Cafe, as you can see in the photo to the left, which is on the property of the Piedmont Triad Farmer's Market. 

We both got the Buttermilk Fried Chicken breast with green beans.  I got the mashed potatoes, and N/M/E got the fried apples.  I also ordered an extra side of pickled beets for us to split.  The meals come with biscuits with apple butter and cornbread.  If you like your cookin' country, then you would like the Moose!  N/M/E pronounced it to be some of the best fried chicken she'd had in NC, so we'll definitely make a return trip soon.

Then, we swung Lillie Pearl PTC over by the retail area of the Market so we could pick up a peck of peaches.  Free stone.  Juicy and sweet.  I know 'cause the lady cut one open and let me taste it!  Excellent.  I can't wait to slice some up to go over ice cream tonight...and cereal in the morning.  I may even have enough to make some peach preserves.

A little sugar on those peaches should help soothe away some of the pangs of those damages, eh?

HB2Me in NC: Year 2

"Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words."



- Plautus

And cake.  Don't forget the cake!

"Thirty five is a very attractive age;
London society is full of women who have of their own free choice remained thirty-five for years."


- Oscar Wilde

Ok, so it was the twenty-second anniversary of my 35th birthday.  And I wanted it to be a memorable day, from start to finish.  Mr T took the day off work to spend it with me, and wonder of all wonders...he turned off his Blackberry.  Amazingly, the world did not stop turning.

I got up extra-early to catch the sunrise, but the early morning clouds kept the sun from making an appearance until just after 7:30.  No matter.  I did a little gardening while I was outside.  Picked our first cantalope and several tomatoes.  Hey...it's about what's fun for me, right?

Showered and dressed, we then headed to IHOP for breakfast (yes, we both qualify for the Senior Specials now...:).  Thus fortified, we pointed his bright red Outlander toward Pilot Mountain, taking I40 out of the Triad to US52, heading north at Winston-Salem. 

On the ride, I plugged in my iPod, so we could listen to my music, starting with playing Toronto's Celtic rock band Enter The Haggis' One Last Drink about 5 times.  Love that song!  (Heard it first on my favorite knitting-related podcast, Cast On.) Next came several Alison Krauss favs, like Down to the River to Pray and Oh, Atlanta.  Some Memphis-reminder songs like Marc Cohn's Walking in Memphis; Johnny Rivers' version of Memphis, Tennessee; Tina Turner's version of Proud Mary, and then those last two again, followed by Old Man River...all played by the Tiger Marching Band, finishing up their set with Go Tigers Go.  Then, we progressed to Dvorak's Symphony No. 9...the New World Symphony.  I know, I know...I have a rather er, eclectic (some might even say "odd") taste in music.  But, Mr. T was a good sport, even doing a little maestro-magic on the symphony.

At the Pilot Mountain State Park exit (shown on the left), we followed the directions to Pinnacle, NC, where we found Daylily Meadows day lily farm.  Fabulous!  The owners are also hybridizers of day lilies, which means they have a remarkable collection of plants, most of which we'd never seen before.  We left with three varieties:  Symmetry in Yellow, Forever Redeemed, and Joe Marinello...that last one, a gift from the owners to honor my birthday!  How sweet can you get?!!

As you can probably tell from that photo, it was hazy...and hot...and humid:  the dreaded Three H's of July.  And, as usual, those conditions get together to stir up an afternoon thunderstorm or two.  Taking stock of the surrounding skies, we decided against our next stop at Hanging Rock State Park.  It was just too hot for a picnic, and those clouds were threatening to dump buckets at any minute.  [Fortunately, we missed all the "widely scattered showers" all day.  Just lucky I guess.]

Revising our itinerary, we next drove to our first winery in NC...appropriately at "The First" winery in NC:  Germanton Vineyard & Winery, which has been around since 1981.  We tasted their wares, purchased a few, and pointed our ride toward Winston.

We finished off the day with some good eats, at a restaurant we first discovered when we moved to NC in 1994.  I had the Chicken Scallopini, my favorite menu selection at Macaroni Grill.  Mr. T tried the salmon (his go-to order almost anywhere...:).  And, we lingered over the cups of dark coffee as long as possible.  Who wants a "special day" to end?

End?  Remember, there's still cake!

We got home to find that the storms we had eluded all day had zapped the electricity in HPNC.  N/M/E said a loud clap of thunder about 20 minutes before we arrived had knocked out the power immediately.  And, it stayed out for several hours...into the night.  No matter...Mr. T lit the candles (just three:  one each for past, present, and future) on my cake, and I opened my cards and presents.  I loved 'em all!  Hugs to each of you for a perfect ending to my perfect day.

Just as we were beginning to get a bit warm without the AC, the lights came back on about 10:30.  All's well...

When It Rains...

Oh yeah.  You knew this one was coming, didn't you?  After that last post about how dry and hot we were here in HPNC, you just knew what was going to happen.  A perfect example of "be careful what you wish for..."

It poured buckets yesterday!  PTI (the airport that serves Greensboro, High Point, and Winston-Salem) recorded over 3.2" of rain in the 24 hour period.  We didn't get that much here at Casa 3917, but we got more than enough at nearly 2" in our rain gauge.  Plus, there were thunderstorms from 7:00 to 10:00 p.m.; lots of wind, possibly some hail in the area...although, thankfully we didn't have much, if any, of that stuff. 

I spent the afternoon, working in the garage...ha, fooled you!  You thought I was going to say garden, didn't you?  Nah.  It was so muggy out there that you could have cut the air with a knife.  The garage was not-as-warm and definitely a lot less humid than outside, so I decided to try to find the freezer underneath all those picture boxes that haven't been opened since our move here...still stacked up around, in front of, and on top of the chest freezer that some friends in MO gave us.  It's been plugged in, cooling away, for the past year...but we've yet to load 'er up.  That will soon change, as we need that freezer to put up the bounty that's coming in from the garden.

Found it!  And, it's still working fine; doesn't even need defrosting...hurrah!  Plus, I was happy to finally see some of our pictures and wall decorations again.  I have far less wall space in this house, so I'm not sure where they will go, but it'll be fun trying to make it work.  And, if nothing else, we'll follow Mr. T's suggestion:  we'll line the walls of the garage with whatever we can't find a spot for inside the house!

Speaking of pictures...I had to share one (left) of the 142 shots (!) I took of the bees on the Mammouth Sunflower that has bloomed. Yup.  142.  Gotta love that digital camera.

Well, actually they weren't all of the bees.  Some were of the butterflies that were visiting the zinnias and marigolds (right). 

I never get tired of taking these pictures.  I am trying to get better at it...and maybe I can find just the right one to enter into the photo contest that Our State magazine runs.  It's a goal!



Since I couldn't really work in the garden this morning (still too wet), I decided to flatten out all those moving boxes that I removed from the pictures and lay them out in the next area to be tilled (when we get the tiller fixed, that is...:).  It's supposed to rain again this evening, so they'll start decomposing in short order.

It's a neat trick we learned a few years ago.  Want a new flower bed or garden row where there is now grass (or, in our case, weeds)?  Just lay out your bed or row with cardboard, top it with leaves and clippings for a few seasons, and the following year, the weeds...er, grass...will be gone, and the cardboard will be well along in the decomposition process and can be tilled under fairly easily.  We didn't get our cardboard process started until last Fall, so we still had some chunky bits after two passes with the tiller...and we learned that sticky-tape used to seal the moving boxes does NOT decompose, ever.  Still, it worked just fine for what we wanted:  to enlarge the garden space in the Way Back.  And, that's what we doing again.

I want to add a large bed for my strawberries, outside/alongside the current garden boundary.  Since strawberries are perennials and stay put for several years, I need to move my current crop to more permanent digs.  I was reading in my Guide to North Carolina Vegetable Gardening by Walter Reeves and Felder Rushing, that a bed 8 x 30 feet will accommodate 30 "starter" plants and will produce enough berries to feed a family of 4.  I currently have 11 plants that are sending out runners, left and right, so I think I should have my 30 starter plants by Fall, when I'll be creating my new bed.  Of course, that means that I'll have to wait 2 years for a "real" crop of berries (since I'll want my starter or Mother plants to use their energy to send out even more runner or Daughter plants next year, instead of pouring that energy into making yummy, delicious berries...drool, drool...:).  But, remember...gardening is all about patience...and delayed satisfaction from your labors...and, and...well, all that noble stuff that gardeners say when they can't have what they've worked so hard for RIGHT AWAY!!!!!

How Dry...and Hot...We Are

What a difference a month makes.  I seem to recall that I was whinging about all that rain we were getting at the end of May, beginning of June.  Daily downpours. Weekly wash-outs.  Well, just where is it now, I ask you?  Not here, for sure.  It's starting to look like the Dust Bowl around High Point.  I water the garden twice each day, but it still is parched.

As I headed home yesterday from a short drive to the Post Office, I watched the thermometer in my Lillie Pearl PT Cruiser jump from 98 to 100 as I made the turn from Skeet Club onto Waterview.  Stop the car, as my dear Daddy used to say.  I pulled over to the side of the road to snap the shot, left.  Had to document the occasion, of course. The weatherman said the official high for Piedmont Triad International (PTI:  local airport, serving Greensboro, High Point, and Winston-Salem) was 99, but at 3:47 p.m., it was one hundred degrees in this northwest corner of High Point.

Pardon me while I go get a glass of iced tea.

And, if the heat, humidity, and the lack of rain wasn't enough to make you want to stay near the AC (which is running constantly, night and day), we had a Code Orange air quality alert yesterday.  Over 150 for the first time this year.  Unhealthy for individuals with breathing issues (like N/M/E).  Not to worry, BFF AW braved it all and came over to join N/M/E for a Chat 'n Chew.  I fixed supper trays with scoops of tuna salad (made with apples instead of celery) and bow-tie pasta salad (made with both yellow and zucchini squash from the garden, of course), followed by dessert bowls of homemade vanilla ice cream (which was still tasty after our Fourth celebration).  My job was to keep the Drool Gang otherwise occupied so the Lovely Ladies could enjoy some uninterrupted time together.  It all worked out pretty well, thank goodness.

Speaking of the Fourth...

Missy M and Ella Rae made the long drive to come visit us over the Holiday weekend.  On Saturday, when it was just too hot to do anything else but ride around in an air conditioned car, she and I hopped in Lillie Pearl and headed her toward Hillsborough, NC.  There is a yarn shop there, you see...and they were having a sale.  Yadda, yadda, yadda.  Mother-Daughter Bonding Trip, by any other name.  A good time was had by both!

Sunday was another scorcher.  Limited our activities to after sundown.  Hamburgers and hot dogs and corn-on-the-cob on the grill.  Homemade ice cream with strawberries (a few of which came from the garden, even!).  Topped off with fireworks after dark (first...on TV, from the Capitol Fourth; then, big booms from across the Lake, here in HPNC).  Happy 234th Birthday, America!

On this morning's water-walk (replacing the usual Coffee Walk...too hot...:), I couldn't help but notice the Jubilee watermelon's progress.  Took this snap (left) to compare it to one I took 8 days ago (right).  Yowza!  How it is growing in all this heat is a miracle.  Same goes for the corn, which is tassling and setting ears in the worst week of the season so far.  Wonder if it will survive...much less thrive?  We'll see...

  

I also enjoyed taking a couple hundred snapshots of the butterflies and bees who are enjoying the blooming zinnias and marigolds.  OMG.  I've never seen anything like this!  I took so many photos that I zapped the batteries...which is probably the only reason I stopped taking pictures.  They are so beautiful.  We've always planted borders of zinnias and marigolds around our gardens, and we've had better/thicker flower results before, but I cannot remember when the visitor population has been so spectacular.  It was difficult to pick which ones to show you.

 

 

Weatherman is calling for a slight chance of rain tonight, increasing to a 50% chance tomorrow night.  Fingers crossed.  Toes, too!