Summer

I used to love summer when I was a little girl. Time off from school; trips to the library; reading books on the couch in our big living room with all the windows and doors open (no AC back then). There was watermelon served on the wooden picnic table in the yard, crab suppers, trips to the ice cream stand, and sleeping as late as I could given the mother that I had.

I have grown to be wary of summer. Summer is hot here in Florida and getting hotter every year. I love the yard and I love the garden. But it is so hot during the summer, that I can barely stand to work outside for fifteen minutes. And it rains weeds here in the summer. I can't keep up with the weeding and so I let it go for much too long. And my body is rebelling. I am sore in so many places that sometimes yard work is really hard for me. I have to use one of the little kneeling stools if I want to be able to walk when I'm through.

So, I don't weed very often. And I don't plant as many plants as I used to. Instead, I sit on the porch beneath the ceiling fan and eat watermelon. And so I look at the garden from a distance. Because almost anything looks better from a distance......and the imperfections are not evident....and I don't feel guilty.....and I can continue eating watermelon and making garden plans for fall.

The Memories of the Screen Door

It is said that familiar fragrances and other smells can transport you back to an earlier time. I believe sounds can do that also. This morning, I went outside to cut roses. I came back into the house through the screened porch and let the door slam behind me. At that moment, I was transported back to the childhood of my children and my own childhood as well.

When my children were young, we lived in a vintage, remodeled home with a screen door in the front and a screen door in the back. The front door opened on to a large porch with a wooden floor. My three daughters were an active bunch, coming in and out and in and out. Those were the days when it was safe to play outdoors, to run a block down the road to the grandparent's house, to go to the neighbor's to play. Each weekend was filled with play, and running, bike riding, and the sound of happy children's voices. However, what I remember most as I stood at the kitchen window washing dishes, is the sound of the footsteps running on the porch and the slamming of the screen door as each girl came in and out, engaged in the business of playing.

When I was a girl, I also lived in a vintage home with a wooden front porch and screen doors at all four entrances to the house. Some of my best memories are of going in and out the screen door and letting it slam behind me. There is just something very nostalgic about that sound even though it was the catalyst for both my mother and grandfather to remind me (in a not so soft voice) to "not slam the door".

As a child, a slamming screen door sounds like freedom; as the mother of active children, a slamming screen door sounds like contentment and unrestrained joy; and at my age, a slamming screen door can still evoke wonderful memories as it slams behind me and stirs up echoes of the past.

I really don't want to return to my own childhood or the childhood of my children. However, I'd love another house with a screen door in the front.

The Windows Are Sweating

It certainly is not a monumental news flash and it's not like it doesn't happen every summer, but the windows seem to be sweating much earlier this year. It has been hot here for two months and winter just slid into summer with barely any spring to speak of. Yes, my windows have condensation on them because I keep the inside pretty cold. However, with two menopausal women living in this house, it would be foolish to do otherwise!

As bears hibernate in the winter, I hibernate in the summer. Even though I love to work in the garden, I must reserve that luxury for early evening when the temperatures are cooler. It hasn't always been this way. When I was much younger, my favorite place was on the beach, in the sun. I could lay out there all day taking only brief respites into the water to cool off. I could never do that now. Do you think that as we age, our internal thermometers get faulty? That's what I think. Along with every other body part that begins to need replacing, internal thermometers must be the first to go.

And so, I enjoy my garden from the inside. It was fortuitous indeed that we built this house with large windows and glass doors from which to see the outdoors. I can see the tons of birds that inhabit the backyard and, yes, I set the sprinkler during the heat of the day so that they will have some relief also. I can sit in the living room and see the birds in the fountain outside the front door and enjoy the cardinals as they use the entry garden for a fly-way.

And so, all is not lost. It is just a different way to enjoy nature. And in the late afternoon, with a glass of wine in hand, I will sit on the screened porch and not really care if it is hot.

New Pot

I used my Reward Points to purchase (with no money exchanged) a pressure cooker. I haven't used a pressure cooker since I was about twenty-five years old. However, this is a new fangled one and it is awesome. Tonight, I cooked an entire head of cauliflower in two minutes. Can't wait to see what I can speed cook next.

A Smattering of Rain And Other Trivia

Pathetic though it was, we got a small smattering of rain today. We haven't had rain in over a month and the grass crackles when you walk on it. There was a smokey haze all through the area today and it smelled like smoke from a fire. It was too miserable to remain outdoors for any length of time and I was grateful for air conditioning each time I went out for the shortest little time.

I go out each day to tend the plants which are withering in the heat unless I set the drippers on them. And I turn on a very small sprinkler for the birds who delight in flying through the water and drinking from the saucers out in the garden.

I spent last week trapping a feral cat and kittens that were living in the wheel-well of my truck. This week, I am trying to keep the yard from burning up from the dryness. In the interim, I am highly involved in couponing--an activity that I honed while the mother of three young children. Today, I shaved fifteen dollars off the grocery bill and seven dollars off the bill at Walgreen's. Such small pleasures. I am turning into my father. He was the king of sales, two for one offers, and the Publix Promise (where if you are charged the wrong price, the item is free).

Tomorrow, I test two home-schooled children. I have been testing these children since they were in kindergarten and they are now going into the seventh grade. I only see them once a year but it always surprises me to see how much they've grown and how smart they are.

And Friday, my grandchildren arrive for a visit. I bought Cuban bread, filled the sand and water table, washed the porch so I can sit out there without being covered in cakes of dust (no rain, remember) while playing with the six year old. In three more weeks, I will have been retired for one year. Where has the time gone? I've decided that I like retirement. I have to work hard at not frittering away my time. But what if I do? Frittering is not such a bad thing. And I can stay in my pajamas and drink coffee as long as I want in the morning.

And I have a new art project in process. I bought some small tiles today for a mosaic I am working on. And I made some new tags. And I'm getting ready for a big cross-country trip that involves fly fishing. What could be better than that?

The Automotive Dilemma or The Laugh For the Day

I had the engine replaced in my Ford F150 truck about five months ago. I am always listening and looking for signs that the engine is doing well or not doing well or whatever. Three days ago, Janet noticed an oily substance on the floor beneath the driver's seat. She checked and she looked and checked some more. "Well, it could be brake fluid," she said. "Or it could be a leak from the air conditioner," I added.

We decided that it was time to take the truck to our favorite mechanic. However, things being what they are, we procrastinated and left it for next week.

Today, we brought our trailer back from the dealer where it had gone for some warranty work. As we were leveling it and putting things away, I dismantled the hitch head which meant we had to take everything out of the back floor to find a place for it. Upon doing so, we noticed a much larger oily spot on the floor and, upon investigation, found a very old, melted pound of margarine under the seat. No, I don't know how it got there or where it came from. It's not even a brand we use. Maybe Cocoa the dog was going to do some baking. I really don't know. What I do know is that I am REALLY glad we didn't make a trip to the mechanic. How embarrassing!!

Conk Peas

I bought a bushel of conk peas today and, when I made note of such on Facebook, I had some friends who had never heard of them. So, here you are. These are conk peas. They look like black eyed peas or crowder peas when they are still in the shell.
But when you shell them, you see a very delicate, light green pea that has a wonderful buttery taste when cooked. Of course, I cook the peas with a ham hock from the Honey Baked Ham store so what's not to like?
Last year we had the pleasure of picking peas in a field near our house. We are on the look-out again this year because we love pickin' and we love shellin'. I do revert to my southern upbringing, don't I?