A fine breeze is blowing today. The air is remarkably cooler and so clear. The bright, crisp blue sky is dotted with picture-perfect poofy white clouds. I could almost convince myself that today is a fine early fall day, especially when seeing the senescing buckeye trees in the forest, with their rusty brown crisp leaves. They always are the first trees to give it up for the season, but I imagine that the rain that we haven’t been getting hasn’t helped their early retirement. The farm has been quite dry. In the past six weeks I think our tally of total rain accumulation is somewhere around an inch. The online weather map that we look at shows our region as being on the “drought monitor” list. I don’t really want to think about that, though.
I want to think about today. Today is divine. The cooler weather does something to me. It takes the edge off. The heat and humidity that we were having previously makes me feel like I have to hurry through tasks, even though hurrying makes me sweat and gasp for breath that much more. Hurry and get done. Hurry to the shade. Hurry to the water bottle. Hurry to the creek (not a bad thing to hurry to). On days like today, I feel almost tireless. My attitude carries with it the feeling of what’s the hurry?Last night we had rain. A very gentle, almost inaudible, rain. Over the course of the night we racked up about half an inch. Not quite enough to even penetrate through the thick foliage of some crops, like the eggplant, as there was still dry dirt down under all of those leaves. But it was just enough rain to rescue the badly suffering winter squash and pumpkin transplants that we set at the end of last week. Trust me, I’m not complaining… just tellin’ it like it is. I’ve found complaining doesn’t really do a lick of good anyhow. Just makes you feel more miserable.So looking at the brighter side, this dry weather is just perfect for digging potatoes. All. Those. Potatoes. (I’m not really sure what we were thinking.) When the soil conditions are dry, the soil just falls right off the potatoes. Baskets can loaded without a bunch of effort spent removing the dirt from the spuds. And then you don’t haul all that soil away from the garden and into the barn. Potatoes are a whole lot more fun to dig with lots of helpers, too, and lots of helpers we have had! Our dear friends from Nashville, that spend some time with us each summer, are here right now for their annual visit. So since potato digging was on the list, it was all hands on deck. (I might have bribed the children for their involvement with the promise of cutting into a watermelon after a little digging. ahem.) Maybe we are mean hosts, putting everyone to work in the potato patch, but everyone seemed to be having fun! And when the kids burned out, they headed over to the shady pasture edges to hunt for blackberries. They were in no hurry at all.With friends visiting, and with cooler, less oppressive feeling days, I almost can’t even force myself to hurry. My days are still filled to the brim, don’t get me wrong, but I am thoroughly enjoying this little window of delightful weather (so rare for mid-July!) and special friends. During evening chores this evening, however, I will admit to hurrying just a tad… when I left for chores my dear friend was in the kitchen cooking up a Mexican feast, complete with margaritas. Even though I was enjoying my time with all of the farm critters and working side by side with Eric on a gorgeous summer afternoon, my thoughts kept drifting down to the pavilion and the treats that were awaiting me when I returned. I mean, be honest, wouldn’t you hurry, too?