Hotter Than Bloody Blue Blazes

May 25, 2010

May 24th and in the 90’s today. So hot you can fry an egg on the sidewalk. I think Mythbusters tried that once and busted it. If we have another day like today, I might give it a go myself. Dominic would get a kick out of it.

Went into the garden in the evening after dinner, to water and make sure my veggies aren’t dying. That goofy upside down tomato is giving me grief. It looks like it’s dried out, but I think it might actually be overwatered. If this doesn’t pick up soon, I’m swearing this off and going back to regular old in the ground tomatoes next year.

You know those cartoons where eyes pop out and mouths go agape? Well, that was me this evening when I looked at the hydrangeas. They were completely wilted and drooping and looked like nothing could ever save them. I watered and watered and watered and nothing happened. Because of the pine needles, when I water, it seems like Christmas up there now. I watered the alyssum and the zinnia and tried not to look at the hydrangeas. If you encourage that kind of behavior with attention, they’ll never straighten up. The ground under the spigot on the house where I get that hose (we have three spigots – how convenient is that?) is planted with mint and when I walk in and walk out, I can smell the crushed leaves. Fresh and clean and wholesome.

I went into the back yard and opened the spigot on the rain barrel to water the veggie garden. The lack of water pressure makes that stream look like someone with a prostrate problem, but I placed the hose strategically around the plants and came back again and again while I watered the backyard, with real pressure from a real hose. I had opened up the spigot on the other rain barrel earlier today and now discovered that all 50 gallons (yes, 50 gallons) are gone. So I guess the soaker hose with the slashes in it is working.

While watering the veggie garden for EVER, I thinned the radishes and see that the salad greens are sprouting, looks like there are beans coming in. No peas yet, and the beans I planted with Dan didn’t survive the transplanting. (Sunday I was at Rubino’s and managed to snag the LAST packet of the purple french beans. Danny will never know it’s not the ones we planted – although that kid is so smart, he’ll probably figure it out). Wondering where the zucchini is. Maybe the family dug those up. I cook it with onions and broccoli so they get another jolt of healthy vegetable but I’m the only one that likes it,  so I wouldn’t put it past them. I checked that rain barrel and yep, all that water is gone too. Makes sense as the grass all around the bed was sodden. No packed soil in that garden! Tomorrow will be interesting, as I’ll have to carry watering cans full. The spigot in the garage is broken and Dominic will have to get put on that repair job asap.

The foxglove, both the native prairie plant and the cultivar, are budding and blooming. Within days, we should get a show of white and pink that is beyond belief. When we went to the Grand Canyon two years ago, we came home to a sea of nodding white bells. It was just breathtaking. It was dark when we got home, but Tony and I stood outside and soaked it in, the flowers just luminescent in the night. Foxglove seeds like crazy and I do let them have their way in the garden.

Our lawn mower sounded strange when Tony tried to start it again after emptying the bag on Saturday. He and Dominic got a new air filter, new spark plug, changed the oil and generally gave it a great tune up. It then refused to start altogether. The backyard and a patch down the side and into the front is still long and rapidly going to seed. I looked up lawn mower repair and found a guy, Russ who does this right out of his house. I brought it over there this evening and he noticed immediately that the primer bulb is broken. How the hey did we miss that? He’s going to look it all over and get back to us in a few days. I hope I won’t be needing a sickle by that time.

Coneflower is starting to bloom, a single red lily is now open and the crazy allium heads get plumper every day. The catmint already needs a hair cut. I’ll use all that brush to mulch the veggie garden, giving the Damn Rabbits a double dose of yuck – the milorganite and the catmint that they hate. I will need to get a few bags of mulch anyway – the soil is not holding the moisture like I want it to.

Found my plant tape after all and used it to tie the errant clematis to the trellis. Also used it to bundle the pink peonies, as they were also causing the hydrangeas grief, laying all over them.

Laid in the hammock and thought about how there are many things about spring that bother me. My children turn another year older, and then quickly, they finish school for another year and are ready to move on. I am not so much. The pace of time is so fast and it gets faster all the time. I worry about not appreciating the everyday, about not holding my kids, not talking to them enough, not teaching them enough. They are so grown. Yesterday I was feeling particularly punky and hugged Eliza. She knew where this was going and immediately said, “Mom, we never had any fun, you never played with us and no, we did not do enough as a family and I’m so angry that we never went to any museums.” Then she laid on the bed and laughed and laughed and laughed. She is truly a horrid child.

Griffey saw me on the hammock, barked and whined and then hopped his little bow-legged self over. He laid with me, and we relaxed together until that black and white cat came streaming through the neighbor’s backyard.

Checked on the hydrangeas and they looked great, upright, healthy and happy. Drama queens.


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