Hot Enough for Ya?

Now that I work outside, I am far more weather-savvy than I ever used to be. I check the National Weather Service daily. We have iPhones for work, so if it looks like rain, Amy and I refresh the radar screens periodically to estiamte how long before the downpour. I'm also much better at telling if it's going to rain based on how the air feels–if it's still and hot, if a sudden breeze whips up. If it's been hot and sunny, then the clouds swoop in, I know we're in for a nasty 15-minute downpour that will raise the humidity. This happened on Wednesday, and afterward we could see steam rising from the pavement.

Mostly, though, this summer has just been hot. Fry-eggs-on-the-pavement hot. We had cooler-than-normal summers for the last two years, which lulled me into a false sense of security. This summer, I'm guzzling water and planning my work pattern to stay as much in the shade as possible, and I still feel like a wrung-out sponge at the end of the day. And the humidity? We had about 16" of rain in June. The plants here think they've died and gone to the tropics.

So do the mosquitoes, which are particularly awful this year. I'm practically bathing in bug spray, and they'll still ignore anyone else in a 50-foot radius and head for me.

Today is fairly cool, and the humidity has dropped, which makes me think I should be in my own garden. The tomatoes are starting to turn, and I need to pick beans and edamame. But the weeds in the berry beds look terrible, and I'm having trouble motivating myself to get up, take up the weeding knife of righteousness, and dig out some crabgrass. Still, it's only 9:00 on a Saturday morning, so maybe the mood will strike me later.



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