Oh, what do you do in the summertime?

Oh, what do you do in the summertime, 
when all the world is green?
Do you fish in a stream, 
or lazily dream on the banks as the clouds go by?
Is that what you do? So do I!

We had some pleasant adventures last week. Otilia and Eric were here for most of the week, so we did things and went places with them almost every day. But there was also plenty of the usual domestic routine to take care of too. On Monday the weather was dry enough for me to mow the lawn. The grass was high so I had to empty the grass catcher often which made it slow going. I spent most of the morning doing that. That afternoon we took Otilia and Eric on a little drive. We went down to Pine Creek Gorge, also known as the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon. Because of all the rain we’ve had lately, the creek was running high. We walked along the path a ways and then turned back and headed into Wellsboro.

The trail through Pine Creek Gorge.

Pine Creek Gorge.

Wellsboro is the county seat for Tioga County and it is a very pretty town. It has a lot of fine old homes and the downtown section is very scenic. We went there with the aim to buy me a new pair of jeans at Dunham’s Department Store. They didn’t have anything that fit, so that was a waste of time, but we did discover a shop called Pop’s Culture Shoppe that sells games of all sorts. Being a family of game players, it was an exciting find. We don’t go to Wellsboro very often, it’s about a 50 minute drive, but now that we know that shop is there, we might be going more often.

Pop's Culture Shoppe.

After browsing in the shop for a while, we left Wellsboro and headed north to The Muck, which is one of Pennsylvania's largest wetland areas. We went hoping to see a lot of birds, especially Virginia Rails, but we didn’t see any rails and not much else besides. There were frogs and a turtle, and lots of dragonflies, some catbirds and flycatchers, but that was all. Eric brought his drone and he flew it out over the Muck and we watched its flight on his device, which was fun. We left The Muck and headed home, driving through the beautiful forest and farmland of Tioga County.

The Muck.

The mornings lately have been foggy and all day the air has that hazy summer look to it. The sunrises I see on morning walks have been especially pretty. And with the haze in the air, we’ve had some beautiful sunsets too. Out in the garden, the first tomatoes are starting to show some color. There are beans and peas hanging on their vines. The onions are almost ready to harvest. There are tiny cucumbers, pumpkins, and squash. And we’ve picked some very nice zucchini.

One of last week's sunrises.

Another sunrise last week.

The setting sun one day last week.

I started a little project two weeks ago – well, it seemed little at first – of transcribing the letters I wrote to Stacey while she was serving her mission in Italy. Back in the days before computers invaded our lives, I was a serious letter writer. I miss writing letters. It’s different from emailing. Somehow it feels more personal, more intimate to hold paper in my hands and see the person’s handwriting. From about 1969 to the mid 80's I carried on regular correspondence with my Grandma Rathfon, my Aunts Esther and Eleanor, and occasionally with my cousin Rick, my fourth grade teacher Miss Conley, and various friends. While I was away at college and later, while on my mission, I wrote every week to my parents and often to my grandmother, aunts, siblings, and friends. Stacey left on her mission in May of 1982 and over the next eighteen months I wrote to her every week and she saved every letter. That’s more than 78 letters I sent her and most of them are several pages long. It’s strange reading through them as I’m transcribing them. I don’t remember some of the things I wrote about. At times it’s almost like reading letters written by another person. I wrote her about things going on at home (we lived in Sylmar in Southern California then), in my gardens, in our ward, at work, the books I was reading, the movies I’d seen, the concerts I’d gone to, what I was thinking about. In the letters, I come across as a bit pretentious at times – I think I was trying too hard to impress her. Other times, I opened my heart to her and shared my dreams and aspirations. Sometimes I was funny, satirical, even irreverent. Other times I was sad or lonely, and often just boring. It is strange revisiting my younger self like this. I only work at transcribing in the early morning as I wait for the dew to dry or when it’s raining. I didn’t realize when I’d started that there are several hundred pages worth of letters. It’s going to take me a long time to complete them.

Letters to Stacey.

On Tuesday afternoon we took Otilia and Eric on a little drive out to the Amish leather man in Bingham Township. I went along just to enjoy the drive. The scenery out that way is beautiful. On our way back, we stopped at the Dollar General in Ulysses (we don’t go there often but we needed some condensed milk for Otilia’s flan) and then at the dairy where we buy real milk. That evening for dinner, Otilia cooked steak for us. Kurt and Julie joined us. We ate our first new potatoes that Kurt and I dug up earlier that afternoon.

A common sight when driving around here.

Digging a few potatoes for dinner.

On Wednesday morning we worked at weeding sheep sorrel (Rumex acetosella) out of the onion row. I wish all of our vegetables grew as vigorously as this weed does. It has invaded the onion row and it is nearly impossible to weed out without damaging the onions. I’ve read that sheep sorrel is edible and has medicinal properties. I suppose we could just consider it a crop and eat it, but I hate it too much and would have to be very hungry for that to happen.

Weeding the onion row.

Sheep sorrel.

Wednesday afternoon we took Otilia and Eric on a drive to visit Stacey at her work and show them some of the things there. We looked at Mr. Rigas’s antique cars. We visited his 33 year old pony, Bozo. We drove up to Greenman Hill and picked some blueberries. Eric flew his drone over the hills. It is interesting to see things from above. When we got back home it was time for dinner. Otilia made sopes for us. I’d never had them before. They are thick tortillas topped with beans, meat, queso fresco, lettuce, and salsa. They were delicious. For dessert we had Otilia’s flan. It was all so good.

Mr. Rigas's 1947 Packard.

Other old cars.

Bozo the pony.

The view from Greenman Hill.

Sopes for dinner.

Flan for dessert.

Dinner.

Thursday was our last day with Otilia and Eric. Stacey and Hannah took the day off. We drove up to Tonawanda, New York, and visited the Herschell Carrousel Museum. They had a fascinating display of carrousel animals and Wurlitzer music boxes. We got to ride a beautiful antique carrousel. From there we drove to Niagara Falls. The falls never fail to amaze me no matter how many time I see them. Then we had lunch and we said good-bye to Otilia and Eric. They drove on to the Buffalo Airport to fly home and we drove home to our house.

Riding the carousel at Herschell's Museum.

At Niagara Falls.

Good-bye to the Herreras.

On Friday things were “normal” again. We had no guests. It was just us. Everyone went back to their usual routines. I spent most of the day in the garden weeding and cleaning out flower beds, an activity I enjoy a lot. I like clearing out weeds and spent plants. I like the way a bed looks after I’ve finished. I might like tidiness, but Nature does not. I know that those tidy beds will be filled with weeds again in no time. I know some people try to enforce tidiness on a garden with herbicides and pesticides, but I don’t work that way. I’m very manual when it comes to pest control. I pick off offending bugs and squish them with my fingers or drown them in a pan of soapy water. I gather snails and dump them in the weeds across the road. I use organic sprays to combat some things. This year, for the first time, I’m dusting plants like broccoli and cabbage with diatomaceous earth to deter flea beetles and cabbage moths. I also dusted my zinnias, raspberries, and blackberries with it to discourage the Japanese beetles. It seems to be effective. Tomorrow I will spray the orchard with my very stinky but wonderful concoction of rotted comfrey, stinging nettle, horsetail, neem oil, and peppermint soap. I’ve been waiting for a few dry days in the forecast so the rain won’t just wash it all off. The forecast says no rain until Thursday, so tomorrow is the day to spray.

The balloon flowers are in full bloom.

Coneflowers.

The first sunflower of summer.

We’ve arrived at the last week of July. I’m sorry it passed so quickly. It was a great month full of family, friends, and celebrations. August is not one of my favorite months. It heralds the declining days of summer. It is usually a busy month and that is good. In August we will start harvesting things in earnest. There will be onions to cure and tomatoes to can and the early apples will be ripe. The Big Event this August is our Family Reunion in North Carolina from the 17th to the 21st. It will be so good to be with so much family.

Yesterday was Pioneer Day when we commemorate the entry of Brigham Young and the first group of Mormon pioneers into Utah’s Salt Lake Valley on July 24, 1847. We didn’t do anything yesterday to celebrate. Today in church I chose pioneer hymns – High on the Mountain Top, For the Strength of the Hills, and Come, Come Ye Saints. I don’t have any direct Pioneer ancestry, but Stacey’s family does. On her grandma Rodney’s Vance line, all eight of her great-grandparents were Mormon Pioneers who joined the church in its early days and crossed the plains to settle in the west. They were great, strong people and I’m honored to be part of their family, if only by marriage.

Some of Stacey's pioneer ancestors.

It’s a beautiful, warm Sabbath. The sun is shining and it looks and feels as a July Sabbath afternoon should. We’ve eaten our lunch – leftover lasagna and garlic bread, and I’m ready to relax and enjoy the gift of a lovely summer’s day.