A hunderd’n what?! In case you haven’t heard, we nearly ran out of thermometer in Seattle this week.
Triple-digit temps are extremely unusual here, so most houses don’t have air conditioning. During the remodel, it even seemed decadent to install a ceiling fan in the master bedroom. When I reminded Fa that we don’t have A/C, he said, “that’s just stoopid”—a pronouncement he reserves for only the dumbest of dumbass moves. I tried to explain that USUALLY summer days don’t exceed 80, and USUALLY nights dip into the 50s, so open windows cool the house enough to sleep … but I collapsed from the heat exhaustion of flapping my jaw that much.
I’ve used the word “stifling” before, but I never truly understood what it meant until this week. Stifling is air so thick that it wraps around you like gauze. Stifling is air so still that it doesn’t stir when you walk. Stifling is air so oppressive that you simply cannot escape.
Mr. Sorry and I talk about nothing but the heat. The rest of the world has faded away in a stifling haze. My God, it’s hot. What’s the thermostat say? My God, it’s hot. Are the dogs okay? My God, it’s hot. When’s it going away?
In desperation, he found a Website with an hourly temperature forecast so he could calculate the precise moment in the evening that there would be a one-degree temperature differential between outside and inside so we could open the windows and rev up the jet engines of the strategic system of fans he rigged to circulate the stifle through the house by blowing the hot air out and the slightly less hot air in. His knack for engineering practical things like that is why I keep him around. That and he grills one hell of a steak.
As if the heat weren’t enough, the aquifer that feeds our shallow community well is running low. But conserving water is a way of life in our neighborhood, where we live in palpable fear of not being able to shower. We flaunt our dead lawns like badges of honor, with a medal of distinction for the family whose lawn has been the deadest for the longest. The neighbor heard me mowing the other day. “You’re not watering your lawn, are you?” she accused. “Absolutely not,” I retorted. “I was just knocking off the dead clover heads. I swear.” We do everything we can to be absolved of all guilt on that fateful day when we climb into the shower and it dribbles only silt.
Of course, watering my garden is right out, unless I’m willing to make tradeoffs—such as not flushing the toilet. And I don’t love my Annabelle hydrangea quite that much. My one concession is to fill the dog bowl with fresh water in the morning and dump the old water on the heirloom hellebore that cost me $32.95, because I still can’t believe I paid that much for a perennial and because it makes me so incredibly happy year after year when it blooms in February amid the otherwise-frozen garden.
The rest of my plants are on their own. They’re waaay past drooping and are now in writhing in agony. But there’s nothing I can do for them with so much heat and so little water. They’ll either make it, or they won’t. That’s one advantage of being a sorry gardener—low expectations from the get-go.
And so much for that funny post I was writing about watering my tomatoes. If you have A/C, crank it and think of me.
Wish I could send you a thundershower…….I would.
Thunderstorm? Aw, you know how to torment a girl.
Great post, I had thought that I was the only one who did the fan engineering thing. Apparently, and a great fact to drop into the next argument Gar and I have over fan placement, other people do the same thing. And yes, we watch the temp. to see when it drops to the same, or below and then rush to open the windows.
Now would you believe this? I am sitting here at 8:30 wearing a sweater, because the temp. dropped a bit, and I can’t adjust. That is how hot it has been.
Hoping for water for you, could you use grey water? Or rain barrels, the poor plants, but poorer you if you run out of water.
Good Luck.
Jen
Oh, my. You’re not kidding it’s hot. And those of us on the other coast have had a cool summer. OK, it’s supposed to be 90 tomorrow, but it’s been pretty darn cool and not humid so far this year. I wish all summers were like this one, but I’m so sorry you and your garden are suffering. I don’t think I could survive without AC (since I make my own heat these days). I’m sending you cool thoughts with breezes attached.
We have had cool days and cool nights this summer and loved everyone of them. NIPSCO will catch up with us this winter for sure. Sorry for the suffering from the heat and sorry for your plants too. Showers are very important not only for the flowers but for the bodys. Best focus on the body this summer. Will hope that it cools off real soon in your neck of the woods.
Hi dear heart…it just gets better and better..I see a book in your future. Nancy
Well, it ain’t gettin’ better for me. I think I’ve actually become a SORRIER gardener since I started blogging. LOL … very nice to hear from you.
I like the post from Nancy. She’s right. You combine wit with wonderful photographic skills. Doesn’t get any better than that! Will your blog readers be notified in advance when, not if, you publish a book?
)
Ha! Loving the votes of confidence. Sure, I’ll let you all know if I ever write a book. And I’ll accept payment in yellow squash.