Rummaging, rummaging

It’s August and the heat goes on. Standing in front of the freezer, wanting to put my whole self inside, is about all the energy I can summon up. Any trips ‘out’ are done not later than 9am.

I know you too are just trying to get through this with the minimum expenditure of energy. Staying in the A/C has spurred some serious fridge and pantry clear-outs as well as a heavy pruning of summer clothes. I think getting rid of wearables is just as satisfying as finding something new. And what is it it about summer clothes that they end up looking like limp rags by the time August rolls around, anyway. Do you feel the same way? It brings to mind the hanging baskets purchased in spring, so full of promise. The contents get leggy and spent appearing, are moved to a spot in the tiny garden, and soon enough are off to the woods, another mound dumped unceremoniously on the ground joining the others from years past. What has done really well this year are morning glory vines. I can hardly wait to see the Heavenly Blue blooms.

This was to be

my summer of getting out often with trekking sticks, or so I thought after collecting spandex pants to keep my legs relatively free of ticks and mosquitoes. But, here I am, the scheduled Physical Therapy sessions completed, and an additional 3 have been added. I’m maybe 25% improved, sometimes limping, other times looking like I’m walking on egg shells. Nope, not there yet. For a lifelong over achiever, this is a bitter pill to swallow. The spandex pants sit idle in the armoire in a neat pile. Even if I could trek/walk pain free, there is no way I’d be in formfitting what-evers, not in this heat. Well, enough of my physical complaints.

Now, several days after I began this post the weather has turned delightful. Torrential rains cleared out the humidity and temperatures have been in the 70’s F. This won’t remain but what a respite. I know I will continue to rummage for hints of autumn but we have at least 8 weeks to go before they appear.

Lammas/ Lughnasadh was this week. The harvest is coming in…so bountiful. I keep meaning to take some photographs in the produce department of my Co-op although I imagine where you are, it’s similar. It’s easy to over-buy fruits and vegetables. Being only one person, I have to be mindful of this. When many people don’t have enough to eat, it’s shameful to end up discarding excess. Are you ever in that situation?

Here are more suggestions for simple easy meals. One I make often is a combo of sliced ripe tomatoes, melon, and nectarines with torn basil, Agrumato lemon olive oil and balsamic vinegar dressing with grated cheese over the top (whatever cheese you have is fine). Tabouleh salad of bulgur wheat, diced tomatoes, parsely, mint, and an EVO and lemon dressing is perfect, especially with some pita or naan. Hummus with small blistered tomatoes and a side of feta cheese is even easier. When it’s hot, who wants to fiddle with cooking. If I feel like dessert, it’s usually berries or watermelon. Oh, and Chloe Mango pops. As much as I like to go to a restaurant in the fall and winter, I don’t much bother when the temperature is mid to high 90’s. One of my friends and I thought we’d visit a favorite restaurant, an ‘occasion’ spot we hadn’t been to in awhile. We both were looking for a pick-me-up but perusing the menu changed my mind. A salad didn’t justify the cost and fancier food was too much of everything. Doesn’t that sound like a first world problem… I’m so tired of hearing that word ‘privileged’ but yes, as I kvetch, I do sound like it. I could delete those words but I’m leaving them in because I do aim to keep things real.

As I look up, the downy woodpeckers and the hummingbirds are dueling over the nectar. I’m reminded that the dear hummers begin their long migration back south to warmer climates in August. Where did the time go? Yes, indeed, no matter how slowly time seems to be passing, we’re all soon be arriving to a new season.

Mary Oliver will close us out:

August

by Mary Oliver

When the blackberries hang
swollen in the woods, in the brambles
nobody owns, I spend

all day among the high
branches, reaching
my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming
the black honey of summer
into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is. In the dark
creeks that run by there is
this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is
this happy tongue.

.