Tuesday, August 18, 2009
I've heard that people hate the month of November. And I know that March can be tedious. But, for me, August is the cruelest month. Please, August, go away.
Until several weeks ago, Cape Cod had a "summer without a summer." It rained. Every day. For weeks. And weeks. And, even when it wasn't raining, it was cold. I used my electric blanket during the month of July. Yes, I know what you're going to say, but the night air gave off a nasty cold damp, and I do sleep alone!
But, er, anyway, in the garden, everything that loved the shade did well, and my artemisia and ferns are like jungle changelings. And my impatients! Oh, my, they loved the rain.
For the flowers and vegetables which need sun, however, it's been a sad state of affairs. Instead of massing over the outdoor shower walls, my Heavenly Blue morning glories, which are usually just as divine as their name, are only eight to ten inches tall, and I've seen narley a glimpse of blue. My roses pettered out early, and even the varieties of daisies were none too happy.
On the vegetable front, my dad's tomato plants grew to lumberjack proportions...with no fruit. He's only just getting little green tamaters, and while he waits for them to turn red, I'm ashamed to say that my potted cherry tomatoes have been giving me a handful of heirloom yellows. Tomato growing is not a matter in which I have any desire to show my father up, accomplished Italian tomato farmer that he is.
And now that August has finally struck Cape Cod, we've been hit with the part of weather I hate the most -- the humid, heated weather that hits you over the head from behind and then comes around to kick you in the belly. This weather makes me feel ill, and I'm completely lacking in ambition. The floors are sticky, no matter how often I wash and clean them. The yard is overgrown and seedy. And my office looks like an empty classroom.
So, all in all, I'm tired of August, and darn it all, I want it to leave! August is like the house guest I never really wanted, and now that it's here, I can't wait for it to go. Go away, August.