I guess it's summer now.
The chka-chka-chka of the sprinklers running has become a pretty regular sound.
The Crepe Myrtles flanking the streets of Waynesboro are bringing their reliable color-burst to that fair town.
The natives belly-ache to be taken to the pool, and groan at the inversely unfair smallness of our mower in relation to the vastness of our lawn. The predictable percentage of tomato plants succumb to that crazy wilt, and we start praying for rain with renewed fervency.
And then there's the fabulous produce coming out of the garden, and the gardens of friends. There is something about gardening that brings out the neighbor in all of us and fosters a general atmosphere of benevolence and goodwill. This is because it is impossible not to be happy to see big green peppers on the seat of your car after church when your own haven't produced worth a flip. And there is something equally delightful and relief-inducing about successfully smuggling your own surplus onto the car seat of somebody else.
We took our excess corn to a neighbor recently who was so thoroughly thrilled that the joy-bells still ring in my heart to think of it.
It makes fixing meals a cinch. BLT's and corn on the cob. New red potatoes and fried okra. Sauteed squash and grilled veggie medleys. Throw a few fresh herbs in there and call it done. And almost too good to be true.
Family reunions are cropping up here and there and we scan the horizon for a free weekend that we might be able to go camping. Just like every summer.
So yes, it must be summer.
But there have been things that make me doubt it ever so slightly.
Number one: it's the 26th of June and we had the windows open the entire day and enjoyed every minute of it! Highly uncharacteristic behavior for a Georgia summer.
Number two: I just hung the new calendar approximately a month ago as near as I can recall, and looked in wonder at the fresh year and pondered what it might hold. That raises valid suspicions for sure.
So I can't really say it's summer beyond a shadow of a doubt.
But on the other hand, packpacks and lunch boxes sit abandoned and still day after day in their respective cubbies. It was light till nearly 9 PM this evening. And the nocturnal insects are loud and louder in the trees surrounding the wigwam tonight.
So it probably is. Probably.
Love this ode to summer time, and yes it probably is, summer, that is. Hard to think of you folks down there with a window open this time of year, I've felt the legendary heat of your state on visits before. Don't forget to lock your car doors at church during zucchini time. That's my tip, but you probably already know it. ;)~Monica
ReplyDelete"There is something about gardening that brings out the neighbor in all of us" - well said, I love that. Speaking of which, my husband just brought home some little tomatoes last night from a fried at work. Bigger than cherry tomatoes and kind of oblong but able to be eaten in just two little bites.
ReplyDeleteI'm a bit jealous that your windows are open. Here in StL, the temps are supposed to be around 100 the rest of the week. Add the humidity to that and it's just stifling. I do like the longer days of summer though - it's nice not feeling like I need to go to bed at 7:00. :)