Wednesday, July 27, 2016


Bobby Mac slides about on the wet hood of the car.

I woke this morning to the rumble of thunder. I'd spent a restless night--body tired, mind very busy--and due to the grey-green half-light had no idea of the time.
I've been sleeping mostly in the charming small bedroom at the end of the hall--a room with both a north facing and west facing window. [The solitary bedroom is a concession to the respiratory flu which has spoiled our sleep for several weeks.]
From the bed I can look directly into the trees which ascend the side hill beyond the retaining wall.
Leaves rustled in a slight wind, and  moisture plopped from the over-hanging roof. 
Eventually I heaved myself from bed, groped for my slippers and padded along the hall, down the staircase.
It was 7:30.

By the time we had cleared away breakfast the sun had come through and the thermometer outside the kitchen window stood at 92 F.
I pegged sheets on the back porch clothesline, dealt with litter boxes and scuttled inside, out of the damp sultry air.

A strange bristly green caterpillar at the back door.

Jim stomped to the garden in a rage--from the upstairs window he had spied the damage done to a ripe melon--one he had thought not quite ready to pick the day before.
Possums always know when the melons are at their best and they gnaw into them by night.
You can see how much we had to cut away to salvage the remainder.
The live-trap is now set up invitingly at the edge of the garden.

I pottered about with a bit of house-cleaning, made up the beds with fresh sheets, briefly considered some sewing.
Instead of doing anything really useful, I decided to work on family research--learning more about the life and times of a 3x great grandmother.  Some of my findings are undoubtedly repetitive--but I wasn't inclined to rootle about in the too warm room upstairs where my notebooks are stored.
The afternoon raveled away as I squinted at vintage newspaper scans and census listings.
Jim went out to roar about on the lawn mower.
I fetched in the laundry.
The boy cats came inside and flopped on the cool wood floors.

Thunder began again to rattle and boom, wind whirled through the trees, and then rain pelted down, creating a steamy haze which hung over a green twilight.
At 10: 45 the needle of the thermometer, viewed through a rain-spattered window, stands at 77 F.
Lightning still flashes, but the thunder has moved off.
Jim is micro-managing the AC unit in 'his' bedroom--the fan is whirring gently in mine, the windows are open and the curtains parted.
We are promised a break in the month-long heat wave!
I hope for a restful night and a cooler day which may inspire me to noticeable accomplishments.


  1. Oh dear! You're still have respiratory problems? Have you considered trying colloidal silver? My husband had a lingering chest cold and that was the only thing that finally knocked it out.

    I wish it would rain here. Except for a few very brief spritzes, we haven't had any rain this month. At least we don't have to mow the grass. Between the drought and the heat it certainly gives new meaning to the dog days of summer! Hope you two are feeling better soon!


    1. Jane; We've had a few showers during July which kept us from drought conditions. This week we've had enough rain to discourage area farmers trying to get in hay.
      I think we're finally over the flu--just a lingering inertia!
      I have to be careful about meds--whether 'natural' supplements, OTC, or in very rare instances, prescription--if there's a possible 'side-effect' I'll have it!

  2. Those flowers are so pretty!

    Your rain really dropped the temperature and that is always welcome in the summer months.

    I was just out hand watering because potted things needed a drink. Rain keeps being predicted a lot for us, but we've only had a couple happen.

    It will still be 'hot and humid' for us down here in s.e. FL during August and September. I do my best to work outside in the mornings and then hibernate the rest of the day in the a.c. Also, I usually take a nap after lunch.

    Love and hugs for the both of you and your critters ~ FlowerLady

    1. Rainey; Whenever I'm complaining about Kentucky heat and humidity I do recall visits to Florida--especially our son's garden wedding on a sweltering late June afternoon. The thought of digging and weeding in such temperatures is punishing!
      How spoiled we are with A/C!

  3. We've had no rain for a couple of weeks and it's supposed to be 99º today and 100º over the weekend. So tired of summer.

    1. Janet; I suspect I'm beginning to sense why the 'elderly' are vulnerable in hot weather! Recently just pegging sheets on the line is daunting.

  4. "Humid" I do not like! That's the trouble with summer - we wait for it all year, then when it arrives we don't like it as much as we thought we might.

    1. John; You have expressed that so well--we get the season we've longed for and then hope it is over soon!
      I've long thought of England as having less heated summers--that may be because I'm not good at converting temps from C to F.

  5. You have my sympathies. I really struggled in suffocating conditions in the upstairs bedroom at Tricia's last week. Heat, humidity and asthma aren't good bedfellows.

    I hope you get cooler temps soon and also manage to shake off your horrid respiratory flu. Can you get hold of Elderberries (dried they'd have to be, or perhaps you saved some in the freezer?) Best thing for poorly lungs and coughs.

    1. Jennie; I should poke about in the pasture and see if the goats have left any elderberries. I seem to have missed the prime harvesting moment each year.
      Upstairs bedrooms do become saunas in this weather. Retro-fitting AC to this house isn't a viable option so we make do with fans and portable AC units--and long for fall.

  6. We drove north to Manchester yesterday afternoon, the mountains were enveloped in all encompassing blue haze. And this morning as I gaze out my kitchen window the haze is so thick some of the distant hills are barely visible. The 'Dog Days' have arrived here in southwestern Vermont with a vengeance and I for one am just not ready. We are desperate for a soaking rain but it seems we must content ourselves with the occasional thunder storm that does little or nothing for the water table. As I write I am listening to one of the juvenile American Kestrels shrieking as it is being mobbed by a group of barn swallows while out on a flying mission. I have no wish to 'wish' my life away but am so looking forward to early autumn. On a happier note, my tomatoes are growing like topsy !! Many little green orbs that will wait for August to ripen.

    1. Mundi; How often 'Eye on the Sky' weather report contained the 'hazy, hot and humid' introduction to the day's forecast! I well remember the 'dry spells' in a New England summer when it seemed all plant life would perish for lack of a soaking rain.
      I always planted 5--6 dozen tomato plants in our Vermont garden--huge crops for canning.
      One of the disappointments in our zone 6 garden area is the blight which overtakes tomatoes about the time they begin to ripen.
      I can hear that little kestrel in imagination--barn swallows can become quite fierce when they perceive a threat.

  7. The bedroom window, on my side of the bed, looks out to an old, old hedge of evergreens. Long since gone on their own way, no longer a neat hedge. High, high, high they are. Interspersed with maples, which have seeded themselves, over a hundred years.

    I love the view, any/all times of year! It feels like I am sleeping in a tree house! Delightful. Always delightful. Any/all seasons.

    Best wishes with your heat wave. We have our own, and are dealing with it, as the days and nights progress.

    Sometimes just open windows. Some times a fan, simply moving the air. Some times I have to turn on the wall A/C units. But hate to have to close windows/doors, in summer. -sigh-

    But when I can't breathe, it is necessary.

  8. Luna; I enjoy your way with words! You have reminded me of a summer night sleeping over at my grandfather's house--the bedroom windows looked into the branches of a dignified maple tree--wonderful.

  9. Your weather sounds horrendous, don't think I could cope with that heat and humidity. Family history research is a really good way to pass a few golden hours though:)

  10. Rowan; We've had a break with a few days of lower temps, but seem stuck in a pattern of afternoon/evening thunder and rain.
    I made some useful discoveries in my family research--now to the more tedious task of organizing and typing my notes.