I have sweat on my eyelids right now. I’m thinking about breathing on the thermostat, it’s just hoooooovering at 80 degrees. At 79 it seems to blow all day. At 80, I get sweat on my eyelids.
The media is full of suggestions as to “beating the heat”. There’s a crew next door, tearing down the house that burned down on New Year’s Eve.
These guys are working in the direct sun – they ran over the only tree left on the property when they came to do the site preparation last week.
When Channel 7 weatherman Mike Kruger announced this hot spell, he complained that he became uncomfortable walking from his car into the news station – he immediately apologized to folks who have to work outside in this weather. Thanks Mike.
I try to get outside early and get things done, cause when it gets over 90, I feel like I’m stuck in some kind of goo. Most of my outside work these days is making sure everything gets watered. My husband and I went out to run errands the other morning, a timer malfunctioned, and we came home to find the paths flooded in the garden. The heat just melts those damned things. It’s a good idea to keep a constant eye on your irrigation, water gets so hot, it will blow your hoses and connectors as well.
Here’s the good news.
As much as I love our blue jay family, it gets down to the nitty gritty when the peaches start to get ripe. Epithets are hurled, things are said that can’t be taken back. Luckily I don’t think a one of the little bastards speaks English. Two things my grandma taught me that are comforting at this time:
- check the orchard morning, noon and night and pick the peaches as soon as they give the slightest bit to the pressure from your finger tips
- bird pecked peaches ripen faster
So we check the orchard alot, we pick them as soon as they are not rock hard, and we use our best judgement on the bird pecked ones. They do ripen faster, you just cut off the section with the peck.
This year they did something weird – they’ve been after the tomatoes. That’s new. We have seen them feast on tomato horn worms many times, but we’ve never seen them show any interest in eating tomatoes. They’re funny birds, they’ll try anything. Lately we’ve been hanging around the garden more and when we see them in there we run at them waving and clapping our hands. So what if they watch for us to go in the house and come back anyway.
We get plenty of tomatoes for ourselves.
How about a little Django Reinhardt to wash that down.
Baby, the heat has been beat.