The Garden In August

 The garden is probably at its finest right about now. The standard plantings that survive the brutal heat and daily rain are thriving and everything else has gone by. That's ok because I know I can depend on these beauties to come back year after year. Once the first hard freeze comes, all of these girls will be cut to the ground and will appear to be dead as a doornail. Not true! Come spring, there they come a little at a time until they are glorious and sweet and most attractive to the hummingbirds and butterflies.

My twenty bales of pine straw have been spread onto the paths and in about another week, I'll pull up all the old bean plants and toss them into the compost. My one solitary pepper plant is still producing so it will remain until it gets tired and lazy.

Yesterday morning, very early, I noticed that the clouds were very high in the sky---a foretaste of fall. There was a slight change in the light, something my daughter LeeAnn and I look for each year as a predictor of relief from this brutal heat. The weatherman was talking about a front bringing drier air.....soon but not quite yet. On the first fall day, the first REALLY fall day, I will call LeeAnn and we will reminisce that when she was very young, she and I would go to the park and gather pinecones on the first fall day of each year. And we would open all the windows in the house and let the air blow all around us.

School begins today for many in the surrounding counties. Teachers return to work today in this county. Once school starts I know that summer's days are numbered. So even though I complain about the heat and perspire profusely at the slightest outdoor chore, I will enjoy the blooms and the birds and the daily rain showers. Yes, and even the weeding and the trimming, all the while looking forward to those high clouds, drier air, and cooler temps around the corner.

Freedom Rider

Those of you who are my Facebook friends have already seen this beauty but for everyone else, I just need to post a picture of this Princess again. This is my new truck. I have been considering this purchase for over a year and, after much thought and calculating, I decided to go for it. My eleven year old truck was fine for the chores on the farm but this baby was necessary because it will be pulling a new fifth wheel RV behind it. We have been traveling with a very tiny travel trailer which proved way too small for two humans and one dog to inhabit. I never realized how a small space would constrict and restrict my thinking processes but found out last fall on our two month trip. Some days, I would forget to brush my teeth and comb my hair because I was too busy just being on survival mode in the cramped space. 

Small travel trailers are ok for those folks who are accustomed to tent camping or camping in a pop-up trailer. But I guess I am spoiled or maybe my old body just needs more room to unfold and move about. And I need a comfortable chair to sit in at the end of a long travel day. And a decent little kitchen because I cook when we're on the road. 

We haven't picked up our fifth wheel yet because it had to be ordered. We didn't want a fireplace (yes, they come with fireplaces but we felt that was excessive) so ours has to be made with storage instead.  However, this purchase is about much more than just camping in style. I decided that I need to really "seize the day" and quite postponing living in the moment. I have spent a lot of time living in fear of my financial future and sacrificing the present as a result. I believe that I am a good steward of my resources. I also want to be a good steward of my time. Because time is the only thing you cannot buy. And I don't want the hourglass of my life to run out while the health of my bank account laughs mockingly by.

The Shoe Shine Box

This morning, I happened upon a blog about men who shine their shoes. Now, that's a retro idea, isn't it? I haven't thought about shoe shining and my daddy's shoe shine box for years. But since it's so close to Father's Day and because I've been thinking a lot about my daddy, I want to pay tribute to him and his shoes.


When I was growing up, my father had about twenty pairs of shoes. He was a businessman and dressed in a suit everyday to go to work so probably thought that he needed a different pair of shoes for nearly each day of the month. He had shoes in many colors (he was part Cuban, after all) but my favorite were the lizard and alligator shoes in browns and blacks. My dad would line up all of his shoes  in the floor of the closet like little soldiers standing at attention and there they would remain until he selected the pair that was lucky enough to be worn for that day.


I had a very close relationship with my daddy's shoes because it was my job twice a year to take all of the shoes out of the closet and place them in the sun. We didn't have air conditioning so the shoes would get a thin coat of mildew on them. My mother would instruct me to take each pair of shoes outside, place them on the sidewalk in the sun, and gently wipe off the mildew with a cloth. We would do this twice a year when my mother did what she called "general housecleaning". That's how important these shoes were. 


My father was what you would call a "snazzy" dresser. In Spanish, we say he was a "Tipo", meaning that he was always "just so" when it came to his attire. That certainly included his shoes. Polishing his shoes was quite a ritual. He had a wooden shoe-shine box that lived on the floor of his closet right beside his rows of shoes. In that box, he kept little round tins of shoe polish in black, brown, neutral, and cordovan. In that box, he also kept his shoe-shine brush and a buffing cloth that had become smooth from use over the years. Daddy would smear a little polish on the toe of each shoe, rub it in really well, and continue this process until the entire shoe was covered in polish. He would then take the shoe-shine brush and brush the polish in again while removing the excess.  He would then put the shoe on his foot, rest his foot across the opposite knee, and buff with the buffing cloth until the shoe shone like a mirror. And he did this until he was satisfied that his shoes were ready for prime time.


Back then, one could get a shoe-shine along the street in Ybor City, in the lobby of the large bank building in downtown Tampa, at the train station, and in various other locations throughout town. The black men who were the shoe shiners set up their tall chairs almost any place that had good foot traffic and made themselves available for a quick but thorough shoe-shining. While shining shoes, these men would discuss the latest baseball game, the latest political news, and the latest shooting on the corner (this was Tampa, after all). It was such a simple thing, getting one's shoes shined. One more thing that has passed into obscurity.


I wonder if men still shine their shoes. Or if they have a shoe shine box with a shoe shining ritual to accompany it. My daughter Shannon is the keeper of Daddy's shoe-shine box. She made sure to retrieve it before we emptied out his house and has it stored in a box of things too precious to discard. I would just like to preserve the smell of it; the wax, the wood, the mustiness of the polishing cloth, the scent of the brush bristles.


Even at 96, when my dad was very ill and in a wheelchair, he refused to be taken to the car for a doctor's appointment until I changed his shoes so his outfit would "match". Even when he was in his last week of life, he insisted on having his pajama shirt changed so that it would match the pajama bottoms he had on.  Yes, he was a Tipo. And will always remain so. And his shoe-shine box will remain as a tribute to past times, Cuban fastidiousness, and excellent fashion sense. What a guy!!

Finally

I can't believe that it's finally raining. We've been watching the development of the newest and latest hurricane, Hurricane Beryl (what kind of a name is that, anyway?) in the event that we might actually get rain. The storm is coming nowhere near Ocala but maybe, just maybe, the outer bands will drop a little moisture our way. 

The garden tolerates watering by artificial means but there is nothing like real rain to make it thrive. And the birds......Right now, it is raining a slow drizzle and the birds are having a ball flying from tree to tree just to get a little wet. This is their favorite kind of day; cloudy, breezy, and drizzly.  

It is a perfect day for humans too, especially since it is a holiday and there is no real reason to go out for anything. I don't like to venture out on rainy days. I never have. I thought I was weird until I went to Cuba and discovered that the Cubans don't go out in the rain at all if they can help it. I felt very vindicated by that fact since I am part Cuban. Now I know where I get it. So today, I will be indoors enjoying the rain from my cozy little chair. Ok, well, maybe on the porch. But that's it. I'm not getting wet.

Meet Harry Potter

You know how in the Harry Potter books, Harry is known as the
"boy who would not die"? Well, meet Harry Potter, the Christmas cactus who would not die. 

I have owned this cactus for about the last ten years. It moved here with me from Brandon, so I have nurtured it along marveling at its beautiful blooms from Thanksgiving through Christmas. Last fall, I took a two month vacation and forgot to tell the house sitter that the cactus needed to be watered.  So, upon my return, the cactus was dead. I turned it upside down, out of its pot, and threw it in the green garbage that goes to the yard waste pick up. That was last November.

I don't take yard waste to the "yard waste place" until I have several cans filled with brush. And so, in February, I decided that, yes, it was time to take brush to the pick up site. I opened the can containing the cactus corpse and, lo and behold, the sucker was alive. Not only was it alive, it had new growth on it. Must have loved the hot, moist environment in the garbage can. So I re-potted my cactus, watered it well, and gave it a Coca Cola, classic not diet. (That's the secret ingredient my hairdresser uses for questionable plants).

I christened my cactus, Harry Potter, the cactus that would not die. Voldemort is nowhere around and neither are Hermoine or Ron. But the cactus is thriving and lives on. And I think I've seen a silver stag around here too.

Chores and Nothing But Chores

There's a lot to do out here all the time. But spring and summer bring a plethora of chores. It's just the season that keeps on giving. First, the gate light needed changing because it was dark as pitch out there last night.

 Then, I noticed that the snowball crepe myrtle was starting to bloom and that certainly was worthy of a comment or two. I talk to my plants all the time, letting them know when they are doing a "good job".  So the crepe myrtle received many compliments this morning.

 And, of course, since the birds are nesting and fledging, the feeders always need filling.

 The new bean plants are full of blooms and should be setting beans very soon.

 Here is the little salad section; the lettuce and the tomatoes with the eggplant trying to catch up.

 The dwarf sunflowers are finally beginning to bloom. Plants get three chances in my yard and then, they hit the compost pile. I think the word is getting around.

Tablecloth Heaven

I found these beautiful vintage tablecloths at a yard sale Saturday. A bunch of guys had cleaned out someone's barn (lots of that around here) and were selling everything dirt cheap. These babies transport me back to my childhood really fast because my mother always had a cloth on the table, no matter what meal we were eating.

I plan to list these in my Etsy shop but for now, I will enjoy the memories they evoke.