Halfway Through Summer

Yesterday was the midpoint of summer – half way between the summer solstice and the autumn equinox. That might have been the midpoint on the calendar, but here in the Allegany Highlands of Pennsylvania, we are actually nearing the back end of the season. We get cheated when it comes to summer. It starts late and ends early. I gauge real summer by when we actually get frost-free weather. This year we had frost clear through June and even on the first day of July and we often have frost by the end of August. Instead of the full 93 days that the calendar gives us, Mother Nature gives us, in a good year, around 85. That might not seem like a significant difference, but when you are trying to grow vegetables that have a 90 or 100 day maturity like some tomatoes, squashes, and melons, it matters. Many times we’ve had a freeze just before those crops are ripe and they were ruined. I’m hoping and praying that, since it started late, summer will linger on into September. We’ll see.

August garden.

On a morning walk.

I watched the sky and the weather forecast all week looking for rain. The forecasters kept adjusting their predictions, moving the day and the chance for rain down the week – 80%, then 60%, then 40%. I read somewhere recently that in Russia, meteorologists are fined for making inaccurate forecasts. I don’t know if that’s true, but I kind of like the idea. On the National Drought Mitigation Center’s map, Potter County (the one dead center shaped like a rectangle with its lower corner lopped off) now sits squarely in that tan area meaning we are at Level D1 - Moderate Drought. Finally on Thursday afternoon it rained. The forecast said 60% chance and that was enough for once. It was actually a thunderstorm with a burst of heavy rain. I went out on the porch to enjoy it. In the end that storm only dropped half an inch of rain, but I was grateful for it.

Then as if to make up for it, it rained again on Friday afternoon – a downpour for an hour and a half. It was wonderful. When it cleared toward evening we had a beautiful sunset and even a rainbow. Even so, it all only amounted to two inches of rain in the end. It filled the rain barrels, made some puddles that quickly vanished, and raised the humidity, but it still wasn’t enough to change our D1 status. We’re supposed to have rain tomorrow and Tuesday. We’ll see if it makes a big difference.

After the storm: rainbow at sunset.

The sunset after the storm.

Thanks to three wells – one on our property, one at the Shillig’s house next door, and one at the Blake house (I still call it that although it is also the Shillig’s property), we have been able to water the gardens all this dry summer with almost no trouble. So despite our D1 status, we are still looking at a good harvest. I picked a bucketful of cucumbers on Tuesday along with a dozen zucchini and a big bowlful of broccoli. On Wednesday I picked our first batch of green beans. We are getting ripe tomatoes now, but the big harvest hasn’t started yet. The corn is in tassel. There are melons, pumpkins, and winter squash on their vines. The onions are starting to fall over. It’s exciting to start to see (and eat) the fruits of our labors.

Lots of green tomatoes.

The first cucumbers of the year.

The first picking of green beans.

One of the highlights of summer for us is going to the Potter County Fair. Our fair is modest compared to some of the huge fairs held in other counties, but we love it. We went last week on Wednesday afternoon. We took the back roads to get there, which we love because the scenery is so beautiful. When we got there, we walked the route we always follow across the fairgrounds. We went through the Home Crafts pavilion, then the Farm and Garden pavilion. We looked at the quilts and the baked goods. I checked to see what vegetables and flowers won ribbons. I’ve entered my own produce in past years and even won a Best In Show once for a purple cauliflower I grew. But I realized after a while that I’d rather eat my produce than let it sit at the fair for a week to wilt away. Looking at the ribbons this year, I could have won ribbons for cauliflower and cabbage. After that, we walked through the livestock pavilions in our traditional order – sheep and goats, rabbits, cattle, swine, and horses. Then we came back through the fairway, past the spin-till-you-puke rides, all the games of chance, and the fast food venues, never tempted to stop. We ended up, as we always do, at the taffy booth.

At the county fair: the vegetable entries.

In the sheep and goat barn.

Big cows.

The rides.

Going up the fairway.

There are certain sounds that, to me, are quintessential August sounds. Hearing them evokes a flood of summer memories – the rumble of thunder, the chirping of crickets in the evening. One of my favorite sounds is the droning of cicadas on a still afternoon. We are not in prime cicada territory here, but south of here they make quite a lot of noise. I remember their loud buzzing on sultry afternoons when I was a boy and we lived on Bridge Street in New Cumberland. We used to collect their shells after they’d molted from their nymph to their adult form and we’d attach them to our clothes and clip them on our ears. I heard cicadas during my summers in Japan too. The Japanese word for cicada is semi. Japanese children catch them and put them in little cages so they can listen to them. They had a different sound than the ones in America, the Japanese say they go “min, min, min”, but hearing them in the heat of a summer evening stirred up memories of home for me. Here in Gold we get just a few that buzz high up in the maples in front of the house. I sat in the shade of the front porch last week and enjoyed their summer song.

Cicada shell.

Another summer sound that sends me into a nostalgic trance is the sound of an electric fan running on a hot day. We don’t have air conditioning in our house, we turn on fans when we need to make a breeze. Again, while in Japan, I never lived in an apartment that had air conditioning either. We used fans (senpuki in Japanese) to keep the air flowing on those hot and humid (mushiatsui) summer evenings. I also associate the sound of fans with memories of old window-mounted air conditioners. We had them at our house on Bridge Street. They made a distinctive sound, a low rattley humming that I don’t think modern units make anymore. One funny memory I have is of my brother, my cousin Rick, and I sitting under the air conditioner that jutted from a window on the first floor side porch of our house on Bridge Street, taking turns catching the condensation water that dripped from it on our tongues. It tasted like dust. I’m not sure why we did it. I’m sure it wasn’t very sanitary, but back then we didn’t think about things like that.

On a morning walk.

Early Friday morning, Kurt and Julie’s daughter Kohl arrived with her three children for a two week visit. Miriam is leaving today to go down to the Thayns. Tomorrow she will bring Rachel and the children (I can’t say girls anymore because there’s Russell now) up here to spend the week and visit with Kohl and her children. Kurt and Julie’s daughter Kale and her family will arrive on the 14th. We love summer visitors.

On a twilight walk.

Yesterday was the Herb Fair at Frosty Hollow over in Sweden Valley. They have all sorts of vendors there selling arts and crafts, quilts, produce, and other things. For the past eight years or so we have participated in the fair, showing our barn quilts. This year, Stacey and Miriam spent most of the day there and we added some extra items to our regular barn quilt display – freeze dried Skittles, and sourdough bread and peanut butter brownies made by Miriam. No one bought a barn quilt, they never do, but it’s good exposure. The other items sold well. Miriam’s sourdough, eight loaves, sold out right away. Skittles sales were steady all day. Next year we’ll take more baked goods.

Our setup at the herb fair.

Miriam's baked goods.

Miriam's peanut butter brownies.

The day started out warm, humid, and overcast and now there are huge cumulus clouds and a bit of sunshine, but it’s very muggy – more of that mushiatsui August weather. There are fans running in windows upstairs and downstairs. We are home from church and lunch is almost ready. It’s a fine day to sit in the shade of the porch and read or take a Sabbath nap. The week ahead will be full of work and fun and family. Good Sabbath.