It's the longest day of the year and this year, one of the hottest. Gary and I worked on the yard, but that meant doing fifteen minutes then cooling off in the house for an hour before venturing out again. We're getting to be old timers at 68 and we don't need heat stroke.
Summer began a few minutes ago, but the strange spring has led to strange things in the garden. The pear tree showed great promise in April when it was loaded with blossoms and I dreamed of a bounty in the fall. Instead, we had a cold snap and a shortage of honey bees. I checked out the tree this afternoon and found only one pear.
So why do the blackberries thrive? I'll have a bumper crop this year and I don't even care for blackberries. No matter, the birds can have their share.
Last night, we feasted on a chicken-vegetable stir fry that included onions, asparagus and sugar snap peas from the garden, but the parsley and basil have refused to grow. I put more romaine seeds in their place yesterday since the romaine has been growing so well in this heat. I won't be buying lettuce for the rest of the summer.
The peonies are done so I dead headed them to create a pretty hedge.
Gary took his trimmer to the north side of the house and found the stone path which has been hidden since the beginning of May. Ferns have been taking over there but we've decided to fight.
The pink roses are coming to an end with only two flowers left,
but the seven sisters rose is now in its glory.
Queen Anne's lace has been popping up all over and now is doing its best to bloom. That shouldn't happen until August. The hydrangeas are early, too.
I've decided to wait until tonight's thunderstorms cool the place off before I venture out again. Everything is out of sync this year, and so am I.
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