…we’re back to sweating. It is not that I am opposed to heat. But in the history of my life, my state has usually had twoish weeks of weather in the high 90s and low 100s per summer. Flash forward to now and this year has had…wait, let me go look it up to be exact * * * * &($^#^(#$*&(. Ok, so the four * are the minutes I spent looking to find exactly what I wanted. (Really, I spent 3.5…but you get the idea.) The rest is the feeling I had when I had to settle for this article instead. https://www.kgw.com/article/weather/number-of-90-degree-days-in-portland-trending-up-july-record-falls/283-578717724
Actually, that is a very interesting article about how so many of Oregon’s heat records have been broken since the early 2000s. If I found an article from August, you know, the one I wanted, it would talk about how we have over 29 days of 90+ degree weather this year which broke the record previously set in 2015. All of this to say, that my sweater is no longer needed. Today, the temperature is…wait, my phone is out in the barn. Let me go grab it. Please wait here. Well, thanks for waiting, but that’s rather anticlimactic, my phone isn’t loading. OH! There it goes. It’s only 84 degrees out today. That’s fairly normal for September. It’s just the many, many, many hot days which preceded today which make it feel so gosh darn crispy out.
The grasses are all brown. The trees are droopy. The sky is still hazy from forest fires and forest fires, and the new normal…massive forest fires. Now, for most of you around the the USA and the world, you are thinking, “Wimp! What’s a little heat?” You may very well be used to the feeling of sweat dripping down the small of your back and tickling places which ought not to be tickled uninvited. You might say to me, “Grump, you’ve lived in China and in NYC…what’s a little sweat on the farm compared to July summer sweat on the subway?” Ok, you have a point about that one. But, my point is…actually…I am not sure I had a point when I started typing this.
Oh yes, my sweater.
The thing is, when one gets a hint that sweater weather is almost here, it’s just plain disheartening to be heading back to the 90s (Tomorrow. So they say. Not to say that there were not some good things about 90s the decade. I went dancing a lot in the 90s. A lot. A decade filled with dance can’t be all that bad, right? But 90s the weather is so last month! ahem.). My granny sweater, the gray one with the hole in the shoulder and the pockets, is ready to come out of the closet for real. I never wear her out in public, but when the Jack, the donkey who likes to cuddle, comes for a nuzzle and gradually gets around to nibbling my clothes as well, it doesn’t make sense to wear any of my unholy sweaters out in the barn.
In any case, I am here writing this at 5pm as I wait for the sun to get off of the garden so I can go harvest tonight. What with working in the morning now, there is no time in the morning unless I want to get up at 4:00AM instead of 4:30, and that is just not about to happen. So, to avoid more skin damage (a good thing for a person whose aunt and cousin used to have summer tanning contests) the garden has to wait until at least 6:30PM. It is 5:28PM now. There are probably other things I could and should be doing at the moment other than typing to you, but I had a feeling at least someone out there would commiserate with me about the lack of sweater in this weather (good song by the way…Sweater Weather.)
That said, I should probably get myself off of the computer and get myself working on something like figuring out my weedy hill problem. Plastic tarps? Heavy landscape fabric? Cardboard and hay? Cardboard, hay, and landscape fabric? Woodchips piled a foot thick? Did I mention the thistle? OH! There is a new thistle type by the chicken coop I need to take a photo of. There’s a weed project in the area that might help me figure out what to do if my weeds are invasive enough. It’s bad enough I’m being followed by a bunch of strangers, but the weeds around here invade as well. I do not stand a chance. Thanks for following along anyway, even though I don’t have much of a point sometimes. Even though this really isn’t a guide to gratitude. Even though I talk about the garden too much.
Hey, there’s something to be grateful for today. I’m grateful that there are folx around who will still let other folx be who they are. There’s a whole lot of crazy going on in the world no matter what your perspective is, but if we keep on letting ourselves find good at the heart of most people…there’s no way for crazy to win. Is there?
I’m going to go commune with weeds. If you have any weed fighting suggestions which do not involve things which could kill me, drop me a comment. I hope you are out there being the most awesome you possible. After all, there’s only one of you. Right?
(Don’t mess with a pug and her bone. Just saying.)
I'm just someone trying to figure out how to juggle ten acres, work, a mama with stage four cancer, and a whole lot of grumpy. This blog started out as "Grumpy Gal's Guide to Gratitude," but since all I really keep typing about is the garden, I figured I might as well own it! So, thanks for joining me as I try and figure out how the heck to kick myself in the booty and get on with life.