Mid-summer Prairie

Nice cumulus in every direction, and scattered showers, but the only moisture here oppressive humidity.

Echinacea, liatris, mondara, helianthus, indigo, among others, and the grasses.

Cloud Nine?

Really just morning clouds, which made walking pleasant.

Under the spreading walnut tree

By afternoon hot, sunny, still, and dry, which is pretty much the only weather I don’t like.

Cracked Earth

The heat and drought continue.

Which makes it pleasant to see water, even if it is in an artificial setting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
In a garden, food arises from partnership. If I don’t pick rocks and pull weeds, I’m not fulfilling my end of the bargain. I can do these things with my handy opposable thumb and capacity to use tools, to shovel manure. But I can do no more to create a tomato or embroider a trellis in beans than I can turn lead into gold. That is the plants’ responsibility and their gift: animating the inanimate. Now there is a gift.

People often ask me what one thing I would recommend to restore relationship between land and people. My answer is almost always, “Plant a garden.” It’s good for the health of the earth and it’s good for the health of people. A garden is a nursery for nurturing connection, the soil for cultivation of practical reverence. And Its power goes far beyond the garden gate—once you develop a relationship with a little patch of earth, it becomes a seed itself.

Something essential happens in a vegetable garden. It’s a place where if you can’t say “I love you” out loud, you can say it in seeds. And the land will reciprocate, in beans.

—Braiding Sweetgrass

Irrigation Required

Sunny, hot, and dry.

And, below, souvlaki, which as far as I can tell, is pretty much shish kabob by another name.

Shade, Please

Ninety, or above, in the shade. Intense sun. Dry.

And for dinner, Mujaddara. A lot of work, but interesting and nutritious. Lentils, rice, crispy onions, lots of spices.

From Wet To Dry…

……in the blink of an eye. Garden, new apple tree, rosemary will be watered tomorrow morning, before full sun.

A day of many errands, including tracking down and eliminating the stink of dead mice in the Prius.

Bruschetta and pesto pasta on the menu tonight; that’s pretty Mediterranean.

Farmed Out

With Sue doing her Jayne stuff, Irene became my minder.

Rowing club shells.

A good day, with a walk along the river, and backyard baths for both Pax and Emmee.

Time To Water

So, So, Pax and I decide to sit out back, on the patio, after naps and before dinner preparation. Things are quiet. Not much is going on. It’s hot, but we are in the shade and wind swirls around us. Sometimes blasts of hot wind come over the house and drive into the oak trees, tossing limbs and ripping off a leaf now and then.
We are reading. I’m reading a book and Pax is reading the neighborhood. We both seem to be processing a lot of information.
When I look up from the book and look around the yard I get a feeling of dryness. Not really much rain since the beginning of the month. After supper, when the sun is low, I will water the beets and squash, the rosemary, and the blueberry bushes.

Now time to light the grill.

Scones School…

…at the neighbor’s, across the street—the pilot and airframe/power-plant mechanic—who specializes in scones. We made cheese and herb, blueberry, ginger, and chocolate pecan. Actually very simple, and ultimately quite tasty.

Then this evening, to the City Market in downtown Whitewater where we picked up a Flying Cow pizza, in addition to local eggs and asparagus. No sweetcorn yet.

Another Fine, Though Quiet, Day

Morning gym workout, afternoon reading, dinner salmon on the Big Green Egg.

Calm and relatively noiseless after the thumping holiday. Pax regaining his equanimity.

Windows Wide Open…

…because of lovely conditions outside.

A stand of white pines

World Cup soccer this morning, then a drive to Williams Bay (Lake Geneva) just for a glimpse of water. Instead found a huge crush of cars, boats, and people. We hightailed it out of there.

And for dinner…very delicious “Braised Chicken with Mushroom and Tomatoes,” page 296 of our new cookbook, The Complete Mediterranean Cookbook. (Note: turkey substituted for chicken.)

Better Weather

Cloudy, cooler, less humid. Actually nice to be outside. Day-long baseball tournament in the park, to the north; continuing Fourth festivities, in the park, to the south. Here, in between, just summer background noise—though more fireworks are scheduled for tonight. Pax is still disoriented from all the racket the past few days.

Asclepias.

And look at that: an open window.

Nope. Wrong. Close the windows. Drum and Bugle Corps competition at the University. Loud and louder.

Fifth of July…

…and another muggy one. Frequent rumbles of thunder, occasional light showers.

River grass, anchored to the bottom, but going with the flow

Pax has not fully recovered from last night, and the off-and-on thunder has not helped him settle down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Why I’m Down On Fireworks

1) They are, in essence, a re-enactment of war—bombs bursting in air, and all that. Since war is bad, there is really no need to have pretend battles or to glorify the worst of humanity’s accomplishments.

2) Shooting off fireworks demonstrates a lack of consideration. The effects of pyrotechnics spread far beyond the point of ignition, and while you, the igniter, might like big bangs, many other people within range may not. Think of them, perhaps?

3) Fireworks terrorize both wild and domestic animals, disrupting natural systems and causing unnecessary trauma.

4)The thrill of fireworks is superficial and ephemeral. Whereas observing a work of art (painting, dance, film, etc.) has a residual cognitive effect, fireworks are an intellectual sugar cookie.

5) Fireworks pollute—the air as well as the land and water below any aerial display.

The one example of what I would call “appropriate” fireworks occurred many (many) years ago (pre-teen times if I remember right) in a neighbor kid’s basement. A large utility sink was filled with water, and then a lighted cherry bomb was dropped in. The result was: 1) more flood-like than war-like, 2) virtually unnoticed outside the person’s house, 3) scared no animal, 4) was memorable, clearly demonstrated the laws of physics, and had lasting consequences, and 5) actually led to the cleaning of a messy basement.

One Hot Fourth

Over 90, with a brief afternoon thunderstorm to add to the juiciness.

Whitewater takes the Fourth seriously. Big parade, and now big fireworks. Pax, having taken a CBD biscuit is hiding in the basement. Mimi, kind soul that she is, is keeping him company.

Neighbors over earlier for shish kabob.

The Grass Is Always Greener…

…but that would be impossible. The grass could not be greener. However, I am envious of one neighbor’s tiger lilies…

…and another neighbor’s blueberries.

Last evening, right about suppertime, we were treated to a genuine duck-drownder of a downpour, an inch of water in 20 minutes. Where is our lawn guy when we need him?

Heat Wave Continues

Over 90 again, with humidity thick as sorghum.

Locally grown, fresh-picked strawberries are getting scarce, but sweetcorn is starting to appear.

Keep To The Shade

Thermometer topping 90, and humid.

Venerable walnut, marching down the ages.

Lots of windfall, from recent storms, most of it birch.

Workout, errands, a little weeding, and a walk around the block. Otherwise, cowering in the AC.

Quinoa salad, pickled beets and cottage cheese, broccoli pistachio pesto pasta—pretty over the top, but basically tasty.

Storm a Day

So many that it’s hard to give each the attention it deserves. The beets are loving it, however.

Catalpa flower.  Who could the pollinator be?

Stump of ash recently removed from park. Well over 100 years, but careful counting will need the assistance of grandkids. (It’s right by the playground, so this should not be a problem.)

Finally, baked oatmeal. Maybe, maybe not, part of the Mediterranean diet we are now emphasizing, but nonetheless, something to look forward to come morning.

Don’t Go Far From Water

Especially if you’re a bullfrog. Too hot.  Lovely weather for swimming in the Nies backyard. 

Thor’s Hammer…

…pounding the neighborhood not long after sunrise, and sending Pax to the basement.

Following that, time at the gym, a visit by Sally and Glenn, then out to lunch with them, then a bit of a watch of the France vs. US soccer match, then a walk around the big block in heavy, still air—all adding up to what might be called a rather busy day.

And both Sally and Glenn, and neighbor Vi, gifted us today just-picked ripe strawberries. Here, from the aboriginal Greeting and Thanks to the Natural World:

When we look about us, we see that the berries are still here, providing us with delicious foods. The leader of the berries is the strawberry, the first to ripen in the spring. Can we agree that we are grateful that the berries are with us in the world and send our thanksgiving, love, and respect to the berries? Now our minds are one.