The weather has suddenly turned lovely. Although the humidity is still a bit high, the breeze and lower temperatures make things bearable. No rain though, and that is a problem. Some of our Echinacea plants have turned brown and shriveled, some of the Calendula have died. The grass in the back yard looks dead; Attila and I have a running argument as to whether or not it is actually dead. Time will tell of course, but since there is no rain in the immediate forecast, I predict that I will win this wager.
Of course we could water the garden and lawns, and we do just that, but it has been so long since the last substantial rainfall that moderate watering is inadequate. With water levels down all over the province, and with crops wasting for water in the fields around us, my conscience does not allow using large amounts of water for ornamental or cosmetic purposes.
My new project will be researching drought resistant grasses for the new lawn. We will have to replace the dead one. I am rather partial to a mild thyme lawn with a footpath to the garden shed and compost.
It feels like autumn, although it is weeks away on the calendar. Fall is my favorite time of year, much to my surprise.
Autumn is harvest time in Ontario. Growing up on a farm meant that we produced a variety of crops, as opposed to the mono-crop megaliths that exist today. What we grew, we also consumed. Back to school also meant back to the kitchen in a very big way.
We were too busy to dwell on clothes, makeup, and shopping. At the time, I regarded my mother's focus on survival as a form of neglect.
I felt I had the moral high ground and the support of my teachers, youth leaders, and the culture, as I understood it from the media. My mother did not seem to be listening to my anguished reports of her inadequacies. I wanted my "quality time".
Decades later, I stand in my own kitchen peeling peaches for the freezer, and experience a deep sense of contentment. In providing me with this ability to find happiness in being alive, my mother endured my naive attempts to "shoot the messenger".
There are things you just can not learn by taking the easy route, problems that can not be solved with money. As I carry the compost pail into the back yard, listen to the wind in the trees, and stand for a moment looking into the blue sky, I find "Thank you Mom" written all over the day.
It has taken me almost all of two days to get this entry uploaded! What have I been doing? Who knows, I guess the time bandits have raided the place again.
|RECIPES :: Cast
Heat of the Day
By the Easy Chair
La Tavola: a club for lovers of Italian food.
On the Screen
starring Mary Walsh (This film does not provide Ms. Walsh with an adequate forum for her talent.)
Wind: NW 22 km/h
Sunrise 6:52 AM EDT
Sunset 7:54 PM EDT
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