The last day of July. Heading directly into the dog days tomorrow–August 1. The EIGHTH month of the year, putting us mere MOMENTS away from the Christmas crazies. (and I was so happy to see Christmas stuff only begin to arrive in the store this last week—No big CHRISTMAS in JULY themed nonsense…)
But tomorrow, we are no longer far away from 2010. We are frightfully close. Halloween and autumn leaves crowd our aisles. Shades of orange and rust are forcing away the fuchsia and yellows of summer.
This year, no garden death to lament. No, that doesn’t mean I was successful in planting, raising and keeping the critters away from my flower bed.
It means I never even bothered. For the past 6 years, gardening in the south had been an exercise in futility. I enjoyed it every March, every April, and sometimes right into May.
Then, in early to mid-May, summer would arrive. With its crazy 100+ days, dripping humidity, and my horrid soil and southern exposure. All my efforts were for naught. Anything that managed NOT to be stolen under cover of night by the voles would die.
This year I was having foot issues. I was in a boot for a month trying to heal it (Have I?? I think, a bit. Sometimes) And then we took a slightly earlier, slightly longer vacation in late April.
By the time I was home and healthy enough to be crawling around in the dirt, I had emotionally removed myself from the garden because last year, by mid-May I had been waving the white flag of surrender.
A funny thing happened this year. It didn’t get hot! So, all this time, I COULD HAVE been working at it, and I didn’t, and now, its August tomorrow, and FINALLY the heat is here….