Heat Wave

We had a heat wave here last week. Not the kind we had when we lived in Southern California or the sort that family members who live in North Carolina, Arizona, Utah, and other places get where you hit triple digits, but for Gold, tucked up here on the Allegany Plateau, it was hot. Every morning I went out in the morning to work and every morning I came back in by 11:00 to escape the heat and wait for the cool of the evening to resume my labors. And what kind of heat am I talking about? High 80's and low 90's. I’m not used to the heat anymore. But I loved it. It felt like summer. And then it was summer. We arrived at the solstice on Thursday at 10:58 a.m.

Monday was the first day of our heat wave. I only made it to 10:30 that morning before I retreated to the house. And what did I do once I got inside? I stood in a steaming kitchen over a stifling stove and made strawberry jam. It had to be done. The strawberries were ready and would not wait. I made two batches. I was destined to sweat that day, no matter what. When I went back out in the afternoon to do the chores, it was 90°. As I walked through the yard, the air was sweet and resinous with the smell of volatile oils released by the plants in the meadow and the tall grass in the orchard baking in the heat. The chickens were resting in the shade and got up reluctantly to greet me. I threw them their afternoon scratch and they half-heartedly scratched at it and then went back to their dust pits in the shade. The pigs were also lounging in a pit they’d dug in the shade of their shelter. I coaxed them out by spraying some water from the hose. They raced around their pen, in and out of the spray, grunting and squealing in what I took to be joy. They were like four-legged crazy children romping in a sprinkler. It was hot enough that I turned the hose on myself.

Strawberry jam.

For the first time that I know of, the farmers around here have planted fields of rapeseed. The fields are in bloom now and they are a beautiful shocking yellow. I drove up the Newfield road and the Rooks road that afternoon to have a look at them. They were gorgeous. Unfortunately, almost all rapeseed grown in the United States is genetically modified to tolerate the use of glyphosate herbicides and I’d say from the total lack of weeds in those fields, herbicides were used. So pretty, yes, but not environmentally friendly. Rapeseed is processed to make canola oil, one of those oils that some say is good for you and others say is not. You can spend hours reading all the articles about it, pro and con. I prefer not to use it.

Rapeseed fields on the Rooks Road.

Rapeseed fields on the Newfield Road.

I was out harvesting garlic scapes in the big garden around 6:00 when the weather took a dramatic shift. The air went still and the sky went dark. I heard distant thunder. By 6:15 a strong wind had picked up and the sky grew even darker and the thunder drew nearer. The forecast hadn’t predicted rain and I’m glad it was wrong. It poured rain for several hours. The lightning and thunder were very intense for a while. One lightning strike was right by us – the boom was simultaneous with the flash and it shook the house. The rain continued into the night and was a great blessing. It refreshed the parched garden. It refilled the rain barrel down at the barn and kept me from needing to carry water, which I appreciated.

Garlic scapes.

Storm clouds at sunset.

Tuesday morning was one of those soft, bright mornings that come after a storm. Everything was wet and the dust was washed away and the sunlight made things sparkle. Although the rain cooled things down a little overnight, as soon as the sun was up, it got hot again. By 9:00 a.m. we were back in the 80's. The humidity was wonderful. Humid air carries fragrances better than dry air and the air that morning was heavy with the smell of damp earth and wet grass and mock orange. If I had to name an odor that was the very essence of June, I would say mock orange. I love the great old bush out in the lilac hedge that flowers even though neglected. Years ago I planted another mock orange at the corner of the house by my bedroom window so I can breathe it in on warm June nights.

A branch of the mock orange by my window.

In anticipation of summer guests, we’ve done a little sprucing up in the house. This house is a hundred and fifty-five years old. We’ve lived here almost twenty-five years and haven’t changed some of rooms much. We have a very long home improvement project list. But we do a little cosmetic uplift here and there from time to time. This time, Miriam undertook to redo the guest room. It’s the guest room now, but it was the bedroom for various of our children over the years, most recently Josiah. Miriam painted it and put new blinds in the windows. She worked on it for several weeks. Tuesday I decided to use her leftover paint to paint the risers on the stairs and the trim on the north wall of the living room. It needed to be done. They were looking shabby. I don’t like to paint walls and trim. The taping is tedious. And the probability of making a mess is great. I did it anyway. It looks okay, but now the need for an entire make over in the living room is more apparent. That painting job kept me indoors for most of the day, which I didn’t mind too much as it was 90° outside and I had a fan blowing on me while I painted. Later in the afternoon, when the weather had cooled a little, I went outside to work. The evening was lovely. I stayed out until it was dark.

At 12:30 Tuesday night, or rather, Wednesday morning, Stacey and I were awakened by the barking of a fox. It was very warm that night and we were sleeping with the windows open. It sounded like the fox was sitting right outside my window. It was loud. We got up and I grabbed a light and we went out the front door, but the fox had run off already. We did not see it. Why it was so close, and why it was barking I do not know. The barn was closed, so I wasn’t concerned about the chickens. I don’t know if a fox will bother pigs. I’ve had the live trap set and baited every night, but hadn’t caught anything since the skunk last week. I think a fox is too wily to fall for a trap like that anyway. I have increased my vigilance since that night.

Wednesday was the hottest day of the week. I went as early as I could to do my weekly errands in Wellsville. When I got back, I mowed. The grass has finally started to slow down and I can get by with mowing just once a week now. The clover in the lawn is beautiful right now. Most years it blooms in patches here and there, but this year the lawn seems to be mostly clover. I don’t mind, in fact, I love it. It is greener than grass. When we have a dry spell the grass goes brown, but the clover doesn’t. It’s flowers are lovely. In the heat of the day their sweet honey scent fills the air. The bees love it. And clover is a legume, so it fixes nitrogen in the soil which makes the lawn more fertile. It was noon when I finished mowing and it was 92°. I retreated into the house for lunch and a siesta. That was my pattern all week – work in the morning, take a siesta, work in the evening.

Clover in the lawn out by the big garden.

Clover in the lawn.

I know why people in warm Mediterranean countries like Spain, Greece, and Italy take a midday siesta. The Greeks call it mesimeri. In Italy they call it il riposo and they take it seriously, shutting down business in the middle of the day for lunch and a rest. It’s a way to cope with the heat of the day and rejuvenate the mind for the rest of the day and evening. The Japanese have their own version of the siesta called inemuri, which means “sleeping while being present.” They don’t go off and have a lie down nap, instead they doze while riding the train or the bus or even while at work as long as it is not disruptive and you can be awake and aware at a moment’s notice. It’s a kind of half nap. That might be what I do when I doze off at church. I’m not fast asleep. I’m aware of where I am and somewhat cognizant of what is going on. When I’m home and the opportunity presents itself, I’m all for a full on siesta, nap, mesimeri, riposo, or whatever you want to call it.

Thursday was the solstice. It is my custom on the summer solstice to watch the sun rise and set. I’m always up before sunrise anyway and I’m usually out at sunset too, but on the solstice, I witness them as a special observance. Officially, sunrise on Thursday was at 5:36 and sunset was at 8:49. That gave us fifteen hours and thirteen minutes of daylight, but if you count the twilight at dawn and dusk, the sky was light for almost seventeen hours. I went out at 5:15 and walked up to Burrell’s to watch the sun come up over the pond. The sky was beautiful, but the clouds grew heavier as the sun approached the horizon and I did not see its face until later in the morning.

Sunrise on the Summer Solstice.

When I got back from my walk, I went to the barn to do the morning chores and found a young raccoon in the live trap. As cute as it looked, it was ferocious, growling and jumping at me. I took it far up the road to the place in the woods where we released the other raccoon and let it go.

The second raccoon we've caught.

The first day of summer was appropriately summery. It was hot and humid. About noon, although the sun was shining, it rained a little – just enough to dampen things, but not enough to cool things down, in fact, it drove the humidity up which made it seem hotter. I came in from my morning work – weeding, of course – and sat by the fan with a glass of cold water at hand and read away the afternoon. Being the first day of summer, I began reading, as I do most years, Ray Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine. No matter how many times I read it, I’m always charmed by it. It is a lovely book.

At 2:30 the first thunderstorm of summer arrived and it was a big one. The lightning and thunder were tremendous. It poured rain. And it went on for the rest of the afternoon. Puddles formed on the lawn. The little stream across the road, usually dry this time of year, started to run. It was great. Because of the storm, the sky was cloudy and the solstice sunset was nothing amazing.

Friday morning was cool and foggy. As soon as the sun came up, things heated up again. After the previous day’s storm, everything was wet. As I walked the garden, I could see that the heavy rain had knocked a lot of plants down. There were toppled peonies, drooping lupines, and shattered poppies, the ground strewn with petals like confetti from a garden party. But most of the garden looked lush, especially the weeds. My morning work, after things had dried out a little, was weeding. I came in at noon for my siesta. Later I went out and finished weeding the bed I’d started. Then I raked up all the carnage and hauled it to the compost. There was some distant thunder and I hoped we’d get another storm, but it moved off to the east and missed us. I love summer thunderstorms – as long as they aren’t too violent. Sunset that night was lovely, but it made me a little sad to think that the day was a little shorter than the day before, a trend that will increase from now until December.

Sunset on Friday.

My walk on Saturday morning was lovely. It was warm, but not hot yet. There was a heavy dew. As I walked along the beaver pond, two beavers were still out in the water. I stopped to watch them as they swam back to their lodge. After my walk, I did the morning chores. The pigs’ breakfast has become rather fancy. We have bags of oatmeal that have gone past their used by date. They are still good, but we have newer bags and wanted to cycle through the old stuff. Every morning I cook up a pan of oatmeal and then crack some eggs into it. We have a surplus of eggs right now. The eggs poach in the oatmeal. When it has cooled, I take it out to the pigs and they love it. That’s the only meal I feed them now. The rest of the day they eat from their bin. If we have table scraps, they get those too. The pan I was using as their trough was too small. They could empty it in a few minutes and, being pigs, they didn’t want to share and would push and shove and step in it and knock it over. So yesterday we went to the thrift store and bought an old roaster with a lid and I rigged up a new trough for them. It will work for a while, but when they get bigger we will have to get a bigger trough. During the hottest part of the day I’ve been going out and spraying them with the hose. They love that. They’ve dug many pits in their yard now. They love to dig in the dirt. They are growing quickly.

My morning walk on Saturday.

The pigs' new trough.

This Sabbath morning was very peaceful. When I went down to do the morning chores, there was no sound except the birds singing. That didn’t last long though. As soon as I let the chickens out the roosters started crowing. I guess that’s still bird song of a sort, but not as peaceful. And then the peacock began. He’s not peaceful at all. He’s been crazy lately honking and yelling. He’s started to wander off our property, which concerns me. Anyway, the morning was very calm and quiet. I fed the chickens and then came back to the house and made the pigs’ breakfast. I had to wait for it to cool down before I could feed it to them, so while I waited, I took a stroll around the gardens and through the orchard. We have a pair of brown thrashers nesting somewhere nearby in one of the hedges. They were concerned that I was out and about and followed me, clicking their alarm call. They are lovely birds. Eventually I fed the pigs and then got ready for church.

We had a special guest speaker at church, the manager of Church Family Services for Pennsylvania, Ohio, and West Virginia. He gave a great talk and then led a good discussion during out second hour meeting. Now we’re home and waiting for lunch. It feels like it could start to rain at any moment. It isn’t as hot as it was earlier. Maybe if I hurry, I can do the chores before it starts. Miriam was down at the Thayns this weekend. She should be home later.

This week the fun level will increase dramatically at our house as Geoffrey and his family arrive on Tuesday night and the Thayns will arrive on Thursday. Next door, our niece Kailie and her boy arrived yesterday and this Wednesday Kurt and Julie’s son Chase and his family are due to arrive. We are really looking forward to the days we get to spend together as we approach our big celebration on Independence Day. We have lots of fun activities planned including help with chores and weeding – my kind of fun. It’s going to be great.