Summer                                                           New (Hiroshima) Moon

Cool, man.  And with it comes guilt, or, if not exactly guilt, at least a sense of urgency about things left undone because it was just too hot.  It’s techno-wimp to blame lackadaisical on the fallen machine, I know, but we did it anyway.  Now that the temperature is more congenial that old air-conditioned work ethic has begun to kick in again.

Not a bad thing, really.  Some down time is always good, but I’ll take mine without the heat and bad sleeping next time, please.

So, back to translating Ovid, learning about Rembrandt, reimagining faith and working on short stories.

Summer                                                    Under the Lily Moon

Out here in the wilds of northern Andover we’re still severely under refrigerated and the warning will last through at least daytime next Tuesday.  This front occupies only the address 3122 153rd Ave. NW and then only the domicile at this address.

We are, therefore, uncommonly grateful for any and all thunderstorms that agree to move through our area, except in the instances, of course, in which said thunderstorms produce large hail or tornadoes.  Right now such a storm is passing through and has dropped outside temps a good ten degrees.  Thank you, Thor.   We will, however, hold the offering until after the storm passes.

Summer                                                             Under the Lily Moon

Paul Douglas, local weatherman, Republican and a critic of the climate change deniers has various locutions for our heat wave.  Today it was: Dubai (with lakes).  Also, Phoenix heat with Louisiana bayou humidity.

We’re like fish out of winter in the soupy steam that passes for our daytime air.

Meanwhile our vegetables soak it up, the leeks looking dark green, potato plants now leaping above the mounding (considerable) I did last week.  Tomato plants stand tall, some with fruit.  I’m going out now to harvest chard and beets.  Over this weekend I’ll plant beets, chard, collard greens and carrots.

The heat makes me much less interested in working outside unless I get it done early in the morning; a shift in time I’ve found in hot countries I’ve visited.  In Merida, for example, capitol of the Yucatan, the city park filled up with people by 5:30 am, most of whom had gone on  to something else by 9:30 or 10:00.

As humans have done since we left Africa (and there, too, for that matter), we will adapt to whatever change occurs.  We will have no choice.  Just how much change we have to endure remains a choice; though anyone familiar with the CO2 loading numbers, which steadily increase, will have a pessimistic attitude.

Big rain, some lightning and thunder.  Over an inch of water in the dog bowl, the larger one (about three feet across and rubber) overflowing.  This last is the one Vega curls up in while lapping the rising water, a pasha in a clean clear pool.  She’ll enjoy the soft rain water, I imagine.

Back continues to ouch.  Not fun.  To think Kate has dealt with this or worse for 15 years.