The hard part is trying to remember what you will probably forget.
So much wind today it knocked over 4 tomato cages, shaking loose a few green fruit as well a a bunch of riper ones. (No damage to the plants, and the cages have been secured in their upright position. )
…and pack. Unpleasantly hot and humid outside.
Molecular COVID test this morning, so we have less than 72 hours to get across the border.
Lovely thunderstorm right about dinner time. The front porch alcove is a fine place from which to participate.
…to avoid gutter overflow. Who would have thought that would be necessary? I did find numerous pulpy wads impeding drainage, and they have been cleared.
C D B?
The sweetgrass started from seed 2.5 years ago is doing well and ready for harvest. Yesterday Kate and Will did some braiding, and I tried some myself. A smooth, even braid takes practice, but I think I’ve learned the secret. And, oh, the lovely aroma. (Above are practice braids.)
…at least in regard to rain. Last night some places in Wisconsin got between 5 and 7 inches, including Cedarburg, where Abby now has a flooded basement.
Here in Whitewater we have had about an inch and a half, which is good, but there are no puddles (and no flooded basements). Clearly, Mother Nature is mad, today spanking us with temps in the 90s and humidity off the charts, perfect conditions for more flooding somewhere.
Above, resurrection lilies, in their resurrected form. RLs are just about the first plants to poke above the frozen soil in the spring, sometimes forcing their strap-like leaves above the snow. I’m always glad to see them. By June, it’s time to clear away the wilted debris. But then in August we get these leafless flower stalks.
Yesterday evening…
…we had thunder. A real thunder storm, featuring fabulous thunder, but very little rain. And when the thunder rolled away, I figured that was it.
But the thunder came back, along with lightning, and then rain. And for an hour we had a classic, old-fashioned duck drownder. You could almost hear the shrubbery sighing with relief. For once this summer, the epicenter of stormbogenesis was almost overhead.
So that was good. But what came after, particularly today, was not so good. Namely, humidity, and lots of it.
Normally, I would complain about humidity, and today’s humidity certainly needs complaining about, but I am restraining myself because of the interrelatedness of humidity and rain. I will tolerate humidity if it means rain.
This afternoon, the humidity again brought thunder, but no rain. That is bad humidity. However, tonight’s humidity is responsible, I believe, for a severe weather waning. The curse seems to be ended, but if the forecast fizzles as it usually does, then tonight’s humidity is bad humidity, too.
…in Waukesha, of all places. Takeout from the Rochester Deli, a true, old fashioned, New York style delicatessen.
Hard to beat for tastiness. Tempted to try one of the DeliCakes advertised in the window, but went with a tuna melt instead.
A few hours to kill and a few errands to run while Sue’s new bike was in the shop, in Brookfield, getting a few adjustments.
Another pretend rain last night, dampening the sidewalks. Unpleasantly hot and humid and sunny today, in spite of the forecast. WiFi back, though the technician was unvaccinated and unmasked. We had a discussion as he was leaving, and I might have convinced him to reconsider his obstinance. The hard part is staying calm and being friendly. Look at me—a missionary, preaching to the heathen.
…about the drought (and anything else I can think of). While I’ve been distracted the drought has persisted.
Incredible lack of moisture over an incredible length of time. Above, cottonwoods already losing their leaves.
The climate crisis isn’t coming; it’s here.
Still no WiFi. Gotta give ATT a high five.
There, that should do it. (At least for now. )
…like this one along a horse pasture. Mimi’s got the hang of her new bike.
ATT WiFi internet service down again, a direct result of doofuses messing with the pole box on Monday while trying to fix our neighbor’s problem. How fun is it to spend a hour on the phone with your internet (supposed) provider?
…for the Arboretum.
Actually, 4,775 feet, or .9 mile, according to a rolling wheel distance counter, while trying to determine the length of a proposed Interpretive Trail in the place. The plan is to keep plugging away on the Arboretum dream in the hope that something actually happens. Signs are that it might, but we will see if momentum continues when I ease up on the pushing.
Lots of phone time, but ultimately, molecular Covid tests scheduled at both Mercy Health and CVS. While Mercy is our first choice, CVS was the easiest. Lots of other loose ends to tie up too.
Photos above of a Purple Martin house which the Urban Forestry Commission has erected, and which is now housing the last three soon-to-be fledglings.
BTW, it’s good to know that Purple Martins are synanthropic.
Perfect summer supper. Some of it home grown, almost all of it local.
…the second annual Canada family get together at Lac du Flambeau. Very nice.
Polaroid by Becca
…not many photos.
Abby and I on an early morning 18 mile bike ride on one of the Manitowish Waters trails. Later, rowing and swimming. With Mimi—sewing. Still later, geocaching, campfire starting, followed by home movies.
And then an Aesop fable just prior to skinny-dipping.
…mostly by boat.
…while mostly sunny and pleasant.
…and for the fun.
…not here, of course, but in a big part of Northern Wisconsin.
Here, I watched, on radar, a dark band of storms slide southeast this morning, and then disappear into thin air right around Fort. As a result, sunny, hot, and dry. As usual.
Abby’s cottage and Brian’s cottage both without power for something like 20 hours.
…that floats on high o’er vales and hills.”
And if you are a cloud around here, you are very lonely.
Henmnmnmnmnnn… I’m getting thirsty.
Temp in the 90s, and not a cloud in sight.
…but sun, heat, and drought.
…hiding from the sun and heat and only coming out early and late. Walk before breakfast, bike ride at sunset. Trapped in a relentless weather pattern.
Above , a shaded secret garden, only slightly wilted, seen on our early morning walk.
Photo by Sue
And for dinner.
…to tentatively plan, map out, and plant an interpretive trail through the Arboretum At Starin Park in preparation for a big grant application.
And here’s the stump of a bur oak that came down last week of it’s own accord during a stretch of our calm, sunny, and dry weather—after more than 100 years of growing.
Oaks should last hundreds of years, but somehow rot got into this one.