Long Hot Summer

Every summer I complain that July is my least favorite month of the year; this has been true of July's relentless heat in every location where we've lived.

July as experienced in our 12 Wyoming years at least offered cool nights even though daytime temps often moved into 3 digits F.

Hot and too dry has been the pattern of July 2025 as recorded each day on my calendar. 

Jim continued to labor in the garden, waging a battle with loops of electric fencing meant to deter the raccoons who were determined to munch on sweet corn.

These efforts cost him dearly--dehydration and several hours in the local hospital's ER while 3 bags of fluids were dripped into him. He followed this with a bout of respiratory flu. 

It took nearly a week for the virus to hit me and I still have an annoying scratchy cough.

Enough about that unpleasant experience!

My outdoor activities have been mostly limited to taking out kitchen scraps, watering the container flowers ranged around the front porch, emptying cat litter. 

Sewing and reading have occupied me indoors.

Weather, gardens, flu, the tedium of long hot days, all faded from importance when we learned that a dear friend had died as the result of an accident.

It has been a July that we won't remember with pleasure. 

August now, and a few days when temps were 'only' in the 80's F. 

Resident hummingbirds are consuming more than a quart of sugar syrup per day.

Tomato harvest is ongoing; cantaloupe/muskmelons are ripening all at once;

There are 9 huge ones ranged on the kitchen counters!

We plod along, doing what comes to hand, grateful for air conditioning in the vehicles and in the house.

We hope for rain to ease the drought, cooling breezes to refresh us both physically and spiritually. 

 Trampled cornstalks and barricades of electric fence.

The corn salvaged from the raccoons has been delicious.

A glut of pole beans needed picking while we under the influence of the flu. 

It wasn't an easy task, but we worked together to harvest them and next day to prepare them for canning. Yield: 9] 1 1/2  pt jars, 12] pints and one that refused to seal.

There have no doubt been more beans ripening--I have refused to go near them!

On Sunday afternoon I processed 4 1/2 qts of tomatoes--not even a full canner load.

 My enthusiasm for the garden and for 'putting up' food is lacking this year.

Coneflowers near the clematis fence.

Coneflowers have overtaken the planting along the south/east retaining wall.

Somewhere amongst them are the Knock-Out roses.

Achillea sprawling outside the greenhouse. It is appealing at every stage of bloom.

Monarda, 'Jacob Kline' another invader in the back yard bed.

One plant of clary sage. I'm hoping to gather seeds for another crop.

It is a biennial, so there is a waiting year for the blossoms.

I have lost all but one of my mature rosemary plants. I repotted them last fall as I usually do. I can only guess that the potting mix used wasn't compatible.

Today I moved in 14 seed-grown rosemarys. 

Germination was greater than usual; I lost 4 or 5 after the first transplanting, but put these into a soil mix that I hope will see them growing on. 

Willis and I gardened along the west retaining wall on Sunday when it was overcast and cooler. 

I pruned clematis, yanked out weeds, clipped back the dry stalks of foxglove.

So much wants done!

Maybe as cooler weather moves in I'll find the energy to tackle at least some of it.

 

My Kind of Shopping

 

We have been missing our former neighbors, the Titus and Lillian Beachy family; missed not only for the produce market and discount food store, but for themselves as individuals.

When the local Beachy congregation found it necessary to divide, this family was one of several who 'drew lots' that required relocating. [This is beyond my understanding.]

New ownership of the local venue didn't work out and we've had updates as to the Beachy's plans for a store in their new location.

We had no idea of the scope of their fresh start!

The new location is nearly an hour away, no popping in for a bag of sugar or a brick of cheese to finish a recipe.

The new store opened last week and we had word of that yesterday. 

We notified G. and M. that we were headed there and they decided to make the trip also--a shorter back road distance from their home.

The new venue, named 'The Village Cache' was a surprise both in scale, layout and stock.

We were among the earliest customers of the day--the smiles of greeting were wonderful to see.

We spent several hours--and a considerable bit of money--shopping and familiarizing ourselves with the new store.

Deli counter where custom sandwiches are ordered and served.

The head of one aisle with the case for bulk meats and cheeses in the background.

I appreciate the many hours dedicated to weighing, measuring, packaging and labeling bulk spices and baking supplies, all arranged on labeled shelves.

The front view of the store [Gina's photo] that is Gina and neighbor T. standing in front.

[photo credit, Gina]

A view into the beautifully arranged commercial kitchen. This area is off-limits to customers, but since we were early arrivals Lillian invited me in for a tour.

At their old venue all the weighing and packaging of bulk goods had to be done in the farmhouse kitchen for reasons of cleanliness. 

Lillian and her daughters are delighted with the comparative ease of accomplishing this in the airy space with polished counters and fine lighting. 

As the business grows, bread and other baked goods will be for sale daily.

[photo credit, Gina]

We were ordering sandwiches to go--J. usually responds well to the command 'smile'--I prefer to duck photo ops.

The Beachys have had limited time to devote to a personal veg garden this year, so J. picked a dozen or more of his fresh cucumbers to present to them. In turn, we were each given a free soft ice cream!

I encourage local thrift-minded shoppers to made the trip to The Village Cache.

Those bakers who make bread and other goodies will be pleased with the large selection of flours, grains and various pantry staples.

Flour can be purchased by the 50# sack [my choice] or in lesser amounts.

There are gluten-free options.

We have always kept a well-stocked pantry. It has made sense for us considering the fluctuations of income that have been part of J. being self-employed.

Yesterday's hefty purchases made the rearrangement of our pantry a priority--a task over which I'd been procrastinating!

Our freezer is full, pantry shelves are stocked, the garden is producing more than we can consume. 

We are eating well!

Lillian asked that I post an image of the notices on the front door.

Several attempts with camera and phone didn't yield a photo without glare, but you can get the idea.

Thimble-Kitten is Now A Cat!

Thimble-kitten arrived in our lives on August 16, 2024; rescued from the parking lot of a local convenience store by our son, she was nearly starved, dirty, infested with fleas and lice. 

Howard gave her the first of several baths, provided a month's worth of kitten food.

By the time we got her to a vet appointment four days later, Thimble, though still thin had  found her place in our home and had begun to assert her considerable personality.

The vet judged that Thimble was between 8 and 10 weeks old, placing her birth during the month of June.

During these past weeks I've been telling her she is no longer a 'kitten' but a 'cat!'

Thimble is the naughtiest, most imaginative feline we've met in our decades of sharing our home with cats. 

She carries her toys [a collection of green milk bottle caps] around like a puppy, bounces them down the stairs, waits for me to retrieve them from under shelves, from behind the piano, where ever they have landed. If we forget to pick up the lids and stow them in a drawer at bedtime, as soon as lights go out the 'toys' are located and clattered about the house.

Thimble is a rummager, an investigator, an acrobat, a too willing helper in every task.

The other cats do not enjoy her companionship; she chases, pounces, stalks. Rosie is her particular focus of torment and runs squalling while Thimble fixes her with a beady eye before launching herself in Rosie's direction. 

Thimble's midnight antics often mean that she has to be sequestered in the sunroom for the remainder of the night. 

And yet, particularly when she has created an uproar, sent objects flying from countertop or desk, splashed in the water bowl, there's that little whiskery face, those big eyes gazing at me; and so I scoop her up, let her clamber to my shoulder and purr in my ear. I tell her its a good thing that I love her!

First bath.

Anything to be noticed!

A moment of repose.

Any container must be tried on for size--the bucket of newspapers saved for fire starters.

Thimble never forgets that Howard rescued her, gave her a chance at life. 

She makes it plain they have a bond.

Fearless!

Why shouldn't I make music?

The face of innocence. 

A wastebasket full of fabric scraps, emptied on the floor.

This basket is the best fit.

A cushioned colander.

A box--for me!

Thimble enjoys quilts.

Enjoying the cat tower. 

A friend of Howard wanted to rehome a cat condo/tower. It is a cumbersome thing, the posts wound with thin rope which Thimble has mostly unwound. I didn't feel we needed it, but it provides endless exercise and amusement for this kitten turned cat. 

She is a performer, a show-off, an entertainer.

We may not have needed a kitten, but I can't now imagine life without Thimble!

 

Garden Notes

I was outside by 8:30 to see how yesterday's transplants were faring. The nasturtiums in the right-hand corner were growing in a large pot on the back porch; nasturtiums don't appreciate being moved from where they are seeded, however I think with a little coddling these may survive. The thyme set in along the left edge spent the winter in pots lodged by the greenhouse; they came originally from the plant/produce auction and were passed along by son-in-law Matt. I had a large clump of thyme [provenance unknown at this point] that was stuffed in a planter, root-bound. I was quite ruthless with this, pulling it apart into several divisions. Heavy spring rains have yellowed plants that were sitting about in tight quarters; I think that having room to spread and grow will see them shortly reviving to a healthier green.

Hyssop which has been in a pot, a clump of dianthus hoicked out of the older raised bed, basket flowers started from seed this spring and more than ready for transplanting.

The Flying Pig was an anniversary gift from friends almost a dozen years ago. She is now standing watch over a dwarf nandina which Jim helped me relocate. The shrub was set in the rather disappointing back garden effort, hidden by a militant proliferation of monarda and lemon balm. 

J. noticed me heaving dirt about and took over. 

I am always impressed by the ability of a male to wield a shovel or garden fork with an efficiency that I can't manage.

This area outside the greenhouse door has been a 'catch-all' spot for self-seeding catnip, various mints escaped from pots, the achillea seedlings that I rescued from the turf surrounding the bed by the front steps. If my plans come to pass, the achillea will be moved to the strip that is meant to be worked up where the sunflowers are now growing. That being so, I will allow the various mints to run rampant along the wall.

 Achillea has a tendency to flop, but I've never seen a dwarf variety. 

Pale coneflower started from seed during the spring of the wildflower experiment. 

Two hours of moderate garden work, coming in at 10:30--shirt soaked and clinging unpleasantly.

I changed from the skin out; brewed a jug of lemonade to extend the daily jug of iced tea. A nearly noon meal concocted when J. returned from an errand; cats and their litter boxes tended. 

It is overcast now. There are so many outside tasks that want done: cutting away the rain-damaged leaves from the clematis vines, pruning the roses now that bloom is past and time for pesty bugs to appear. Weeding--always more weeding!

I will likely make garden rounds again in the evening--these lengthy twilight hours moving toward the solstice are lovely for lingering outside.

For now, I think I'll move downstairs to my long-neglected sewing. 

 

The Raised Garden Bed Project

 

I'm not sure if Jim began work on the raised bed because he was tired of hearing me clamour for one--or if he suddenly decided it was a valid idea.

I let him know that I was researching online for the kind that are shipped in pieces to be assembled. I got out a yardstick to approximate the sizes offered and was debating whether the largest available would accommodate the plants I have in mind.

Jim rather off-handedly announced that he could construct something better from materials on hand.

The sides are 16 ft long insulated vinyl-clad panels left from partitioning the barn to make the heated/cooled workshop area. The interior width is slightly over 3 ft. 

 

J. decided that the best and most economical way to fill the bed was to place baled hay in the bottom. Last Tuesday [27 May] we drove in the car to the S. Fork area to make inquiries and found that the local Amish Feed Store had baled hay for sale. Back with the truck to collect it, returning just before a light evening rain.

Raised bed in place, planting bins and greenhouse beyond to the left.

On the right is my double row of sunflowers. 

My plan--which may have to be mulled for awhile--is to place a rustic fence just beyond the sunflowers, and when they are done blooming, that strip can be tilled and used to set in some of the many seedlings of foxglove, lemon monarda and such which are growing in greenhouse pots.

I expect I shouldn't make too much noise about this phase until later.

Yesterday [Monday] after a consultation with son-in-law M. we headed into town to a local rather upscale 'seed and feed' that sells topsoil, mulch, and compost by the 'scoop' load.

As we neared town our grandson D. pulled onto the road behind us, just leaving his apartment. At the stop light--J. in the right hand turning lane, D. in the left--D rolled down his window and shouted, 'Mexican Restaurant!'

Who could refuse such an invitation?

I had been texting daughter G. regarding plants; it was a surprise to find her waiting on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, joined in a few minutes by M.

After lunch we were urged to drive out to see their latest gardening accomplishments. 

I have borrowed a photo; their gardens are far more organized than mine will ever be.

Worthy of a feature in a glossy gardening magazine!

We had a tour of the side gardens G. has been creating, and the display of vintage items used as planters near the front steps.

These detours of several hours made for a delightfully unexpected outing before going on to haul home the load of soil.

J. 'double dug' the garden dirt underneath the raised bed frame, placed the bales of hay and shoveled the garden dirt on top; the second layer was the soil mix from the farm store layered in place early this morning.

The final top layer is bagged planting mix from my favorite South Fork nursery, Homestead Gardens.

I have clambered into the truck and ridden along on these forays to collect what was needed. 

It is companionable, and such small outings especially around the back roads of the S. Fork community, give us renewed appreciation for this place where we have chosen to live out our retirement.

It is nearly lunch time when breakfast happens these days. 

After shoveling dirt [Jim] watering greenhouse plants and spraying blight deterrent on the tomato plants in the garden [Me] I made Belgian waffles topped with butter, maple syrup, fruit sauce and whipped cream with a side of turkey sausage links.

Must keep up our energy!

End of May

We have no use for the hay crop that grows in our upper meadow so it is harvested several times each summer by one of the Beachy Amish families in the neighborhood.

The frequent rain throughout May has been discouraging for local farmers hoping for a break in the dark wet days.

I was at my desk reading late on Saturday afternoon when I heard the sound of a tractor moving around the field. The Beachy farmers don't work on Sunday whatever storms may threaten. We watched the cloudy skies through Sunday and Monday, the threat of more rain ominous. 

The scent of new mown hay was sweet in the heavy air.

Monday evening was coming on when the tractors rolled in to bale and collect the hay.

The yield was nine bales--the heaviest cutting in our six summers here.

By dark the bales had been loaded and trundled away.

First nasturtium of the season blooming in a pot outside the greenhouse.

The different shades of red are my favorites but I welcome nasturtiums in any color.

Two male hummingbirds arrived on time during the second week of April. We knew that the females had followed them, but sightings were few.

Closing in the porch meant that the feeders had to be repositioned. I wondered if seeing their reflections in the window glass had upset the birds.

During the past ten days activity at the feeders has increased. Today a feeding frenzy was almost continuous. I counted five birds hovering at one time.

Thimble-kitten is enthralled by the tiny birds swooping and fluttering just beyond her reach.

We had drama this morning when I raised the window and then returned to the kitchen to fetch a refilled feeder. A hummer flew in, then beat frantically against the glass rather than diving back out. 

Thimble was quick to notice.

I scooped her up and thrust her into the adjoining sunroom, shutting the door in her whiskery little face.

The bird stayed just out of reach at the top of the window frame; Seemingly it couldn't fly downward and then out.

I fetched a soft dishtowel from the kitchen and after several attempts was able to enfold the bird and toss it out the window, where its companions immediately swooped at it as though scolding. 

Walking yesterday to the mailbox I set up a pair of kildeers who screeched, flew around me, landed in the verge of the lane, rose to swirl about ahead of me.

Coming back I was surprised to note that an egg had been deposited in the same small stony hollow where the first eggs hatched on May 17.

If this is a second family I hope the chicks fare better than the earlier babies. 

Too much rain today for outdoor work, so I spent time in the kitchen.

Four loaves of anadama bread, a lovely quiche filled with spinach, bits of turkey bacon, onion and chopped tomato with a topping of shredded cheddar and fresh parsley.

Beets cooked, peeled and sliced; deviled eggs, the last of the strawberries hulled. Baked potatoes for supper with extra to cut up and brown in butter for another meal.

We walked the loop of the lower meadow just before dark, Willis-cat lumbering behind.

A night without rain, lighting, thunder and wind would be welcome!