We returned to Gilbert Friday (Aug. 26) after ten days in town. We didn’t mean to be gone from the farm so long, but with Mike’s road trip, physical therapy for his back, and Lewiston’s. “Hot August Nights” celebration, we decided not to make short trips back and forth.
We’ve spoken of “hot August nights” before – the phenomenon, not the celebration. In 1949 Harry found an electric fan for Mary Lou, who endured a long and difficult August labor as Chris came into the world. And when my mother went into labor on a hot august night 24 days later, my dad decided to postpone the hospital visit and take her for a pleasant evening drive. I think of those stories when August is hot and nights fail to cool – as now.
Thursday afternoon Mike and I attended the Roger’s Motors “Hot August Nights” celebration, free to all comers, including a barbecue for participants. Mike entered his ’65 Barracuda in the morning, and then the two of us went at 3:00 to walk around the lot, admire the cars, and wait for the barbecue. I made one tour and then sat in the shade as the thermometer across the street registered 101. Ice, pop, and water were provided but were hardly enough to keep up with the human need to stay hydrated.
The show was only a block from the Bernina Shop, and I honestly thought about taking myself there. However, I would have had to cross 21st Street on foot, one of Idaho’s most trafficked streets, at the busiest time of day. To drive there I would lose my parking spot. It was easy to talk myself out of making the effort.
So here we are at the farm. Mike rode his BMW ("the backroads Beemer") because he has an appointment in town on Monday and I came later in the Dakota loaded with Nellie, food, supplies, books, and sewing. I had suggested we just stay in town for the weekend, but Mike had it worked out in his mind (excuses to ride the motorcycle) and was anxious to get out of town. Just as well because Neighbor Pete called to say he would finish the repair work on our lane if we were coming up. That happened.
The hummingbirds are gone. I’ve cleaned the feeders for storage. And now we have some odd white butterflies with black markings, evidently the “pine butterfly” or “white pine butterfly.” We don’t recall seeing them before, and I don’t think they spell good news for the pine trees. Perhaps someone will read this who can give me learned info.
Being away during a hot spell was not good for my gardens, but I was surprised that the damage wasn’t worse. The squash revived with watering and I picked two zucchini just right for grating and we'll have yellow squash for dinner.
Farmer Kyle is harvesting now. I waved to him as I “sped” by his operation on my morning bike ride. Unfortunately there’s nothing on our place to harvest this year, so he won’t be coming in here. We wonder how the lack of crops will affect the deer and bird hunting seasons.
I went to a seminar last weekend and the cookies served with lunch were delicious – chocolate chip, macadamia nut, coconut taken from the oven slightly underdone. I found such a recipe online and am anxious to give it a try, but it’s really too hot to turn on the oven. Mike will make homemade ice cream for dessert tonight.
Well, I’m off to the vintage sewing room to set up my machine and organize my projects. Later . . . KW