Late August

Cool mornings, hot afternoons, no rain in sight, garden wilting, pond receding.

I got to lead yoga class this morning at the Y, last minute. Our instructor was sick, but no one wanted to cancel, so we went ahead. 14 - the biggest class yet. And then in the afternoon we were in the pool for swim class and the instructor didn't show, so my class mates pressed me into service. That class was fun too!

Wonderful weekend in the mountains with my friends Judy and Miriam. Have SO MISSED being in the mountains. We stayed at the Pisgah Inn on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Terrific view. Blustery winds most of the weekend from Hurricane Irene, but no rain. Wandered in Brevard Saturday afternoon and thoroughly enjoyed myself.

So happy.

Garden is wilted away to nothing. Okra still producing. Everything else drying up, and not enough of it to justify watering. Next additions to the "farm" will be a worm bed, a rain barrel, and a compost tumbler.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

by Jelaluddin Rumi
translation by Coleman Barks

Cotton mouth rattle moccasin

Well, the heat (among other things) has taken a toll on my garden. The beans are giving up. The strawberries look bad. The tomatoes never looked good or produced very much. Two baby cukes just dried up. I have replanted the onions from seed heads. The basil and cilantro bolted almost immediately.



This fellow visited Sunday afternoon. Alan said he was a cotton mouth rattle moccasin, but really he is a yellow rat snake. I wanted him dead, but Alan refused. He moved later up into the garden box and stretched out, about 18 inches. He was only a harbinger. Over night a raccoon, or possibly a possum, ate one of my three melons. Another split, maybe from the heat. Only one left. I may not ever grow melons again.

Okra are still producing. I will definitely grow okra again. And Alan found a cuke I hadn't noticed among the vines. Happy to have that because I've enjoyed two watermelon salad recipes lately and one of them calls for a cuke, so I can eat that again tomorrow. Plus I enjoy a cool cuke drink, recipe by my friend Yoko Ueda. It'll be good tomorrow when it is 100 degrees again.

Park Seed fall catalog arrived today. Next!