Temperance, at least in its non-ironic form, would seem a virtue. Certainly for weather, where temperate climates attract swarms of humans. I certainly pine for temperate weather when the hottest and coldest days are upon us. But this summer, in the middle of July, I find myself wishing it were hotter, more humid, sunnier. I would like to sweat my body weight every day. I want to feel like a salty heap.
But why? Why? After all, am I not enjoying the morning walks with my dog, feeling chilly in a t-shirt? Am I not enjoying seeing 70 degrees on the coke sign thermometer outside my downtown office? Am I not pleasantly surprised when I wear a hoodie all the way home without realizing it? (That one does require a modicum of explanation--my office is sometimes air conditioned to sub-arctic levels, and I put the hoodie on in my office. Then I went home, and realized, half way, that it was still on.) So why? Because my tomatoes are not coming along. We are in mid-July, and I've had only a few beefsteaks and a few handfuls of cherries. The vines are not fruiting. The fruits are not growing. By now in any given year, my diet consists largely of tomatoes. Tomato sandwiches, tomato salads, tomato just because. I now fear that this will be a lost year.
The peppers are slow to ripen too. I have only two that have begun to ripen past green. My major discovery this year was that pepper plant branches have to be supported, lest the heavy fruit weigh down and rip them off. And i did have them staked--just not properly.
The hot weather will come, no doubt. Until then, we slog along in wet and cool weather. My heart goes out for the poor farmers who have lost their crops. I know my little garden has suffered through, of all things, mild temperatures and lots of rain.
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