Hail

49°f/9.4°C, clouds to the west, clear in the east. 

This morning's window view

We had more rain yesterday evening, another crashing thunderstorm with lightning and hail. Ths is the 4th time in 2 weeks we've had hail. Fortunately for us it hasn't been the damaging kind, but other areas close by haven't been so lucky. My son lives just 30 minutes from us, but more like 10 as the crow flies, and his ground was completely covered.

Now, hail is a very rare occurrence usually. We might have a bit in mid-summer when a storm breaks excessive heat. But that's it. So four times already? That's a lot. More storms are possible this afternoon. More hail? We shall see.

Not much going on here. Larry changed the oil in the van yesterday, so yay for that. And yay that he is still able to do it. How much longer, I wonder, before we have to have someone else do that task? I think about things like this a lot these days. 

As I was planting yesterday, yanking weeds and moving rocks and heavy flowerpots, I wondered how long I would be able to do this work. 5 years? 10? 3? And when I have to start giving it up, what then? Let my gardens go, after all this effort to create them? Hiring someone for such work would be out of the question,  and besides, where would I find someone who knew what plant was what anyway? It's a puzzle that only time will answer.

Meanwhile, I will be back at it today, finishing up the herb garden I hope, and transplanting some things in the flowerbeds. The veggie garden is on hold because it is impossible to get the soil ready when it is so wet. It will be a late garden indeed this year. I may seed some cucumbers and squash in pots though, to get a bit of a start on them. But beans, corn, and peppers will have to wait.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Hot

73f this morning, 93f as I write this at 5:00pm.

This weather. It's just too hot. And not even July. It seems like the older I get the less I can endure the heat. A friend in Canada posted this morning that it was 97f at her house. In Canada, and on a lake! I should not complain, right? My visiting friends from Arizona think this weather is just fine, and wear long sleeves and long pants. Which makes me even more sure that I would not like the Southwest at all. Joking of course--but if I ever go there, it will be in winter for sure.

I have garden work crying out to be done and flower plants to be planted but all will have to wait for a cooler day. This mama is a wimp, pure and simple.

How is it where you are? Cooler than we are here? Right now I am envying my friends in England and Ireland. Oh, to be out in cool misty weather, wearing a jacket. Or is it hot over there too?

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

The Winds of March

Brrrr! Back to winter we go after a couple beautiful days. This morning it was 39, cloudy, with the temperature dropping an even some flurries blowing around. Ah, March! She is a fickle month.

Thinking about March, here are some poems and thoughts about this fickle month, with a few photos from past Marches interspersed. This first one certainly captures the spirit of this month's weather.

March: An Ode by Algernon Swinburne (1837-1909)

Ere frost-flower and snow-blossom faded and fell,
       and the splendor of winter had passed out of sight,
The ways of the woodlands were fairer and stranger
       than dreams that fulfill us in sleep with delight;
The breath of the mouths of the winds had hardened on tree-tops
       and branches that glittered and swayed
Such wonders and glories of blossom like snow
       or of frost that outlightens all flowers till it fade
That the sea was not lovelier than here was the land,
       nor the night than the day, nor the day than the night,
Nor the winter sublimer with storm than the spring:
       such mirth had the madness and might in thee made,
March, master of winds, bright minstrel and marshal of storms
        that enkindle the season they smite.

Emily Dickinson's March must have been a milder-mannered beast than the one we've had so far this year.

TO MARCH by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I looked for you before.
Put down your hat —
You must have walked —
How out of breath you are!
Dear March, how are you?
And the rest?
Did you leave Nature well?
Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,
I have so much to tell!

I got your letter, and the birds’;
The maples never knew
That you were coming, — I declare,
How red their faces grew!
But, March, forgive me —
And all those hills
You left for me to hue;
There was no purple suitable,
You took it all with you.

Who knocks? That April!
Lock the door!
I will not be pursued!
He stayed away a year, to call
When I am occupied.
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come,
That blame is just as dear as praise
And praise as mere as blame.

And this by Wordsworth describes so well how the past few days felt.

TO MY SISTER (excerpt) by William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

IT is the first mild day of March:
Each minute sweeter than before
The redbreast sings from the tall larch
That stands beside our door.

There is a blessing in the air,
Which seems a sense of joy to yield
To the bare trees, and mountains bare,
And grass in the green field.

Ah yes, "there is a blessing in the air." This is just how the soft air felt yesterday. But today, William Cullen Bryant seems to have hit it spot on.

MARCH (excerpt) by William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)

The stormy March is come at last,
With wind, and cloud, and changing skies,
I hear the rushing of the blast,
That through the snowy valley flies.

I am happy with these changes of weather as this will hopefully delay the blooming of the fruit trees for a while longer. The pear and the peach trees get so anxious to burst out, so that often these trees never have fruit because the blossoms get frozen. But the photo below is from a post I wrote on March 6, 2015, five years ago. The temperature was -16f!

So here we go through this wild, tempestuous, teasing month! We shall see what she gives us this year.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Weathering On

One thing I promised myself was that this year I would make a note of the weather conditions each day. And here it is almost the middle of the month, and I have not yet started! I thought it would be helpful for those days when we try to look back and remember what the weather was like on a certain day--so, I will have to get started. One striking thing about this year's weather is the rain--10 out of 13 days we've had rain!

This photo about sums up the weather this month--cloudy and threatening rain almost every day,

This morning is slightly cloudy but not too cold at 42 degrees. Yesterday the power was off --it went off about 4pm Saturday during some really bad winds and rain and didn't get restored until after 1 in the afternoon on Sunday. Overnight it was so warm--the temperature didn't drop below 48, and so far in this new year that's been the norm: temperatures much higher than normal.

For us a power outage is an inconvenience, but not too bad. We were at our booth in Marietta so didn't get home until about 7pm. We got out the battery lanterns and the buckets. The buckets went under the downspouts and we had 5 gallons of water for flushing the toilet in no time. We had jugs of drinking water stored so that was not a problem. Missed our showers, though!

We left the fridge tightly closed, and sat outside on the porch, having wine (for me) and Guinness (for him). We listened to the rain, petted the dogs, talked and enjoyed just being out there. After a while we came inside and Larry lit a fire in the fireplace. So we sat in the log room and talked some more. You'd think that being together all day we'd have nothing left to say, but we always have things to discuss. We went to bed earlier than usual, and I have to admit it felt absolutely sinful to sleep so long. But it felt good.

In the morning we took out leftover sausage gravy and sausage we'd made for breakfast Saturday because a friend was here hunting (flintlock season, I believe), and he enjoys a good breakfast. I warmed those up and also warmed up the leftover biscuits by putting them in a iron skillet with a lid over a burner on the gas cookstove (it works without electricity, yay for vintage stoves!). I let the skillet just get warm, then turned off the flame. The biscuits came out beautifully warmed, almost like fresh. Eggs, coffee, tomato juice and pumpkin butter rounded out our meal--all of it except the coffee and biscuit ingredients home-raised. Love those kind of meals.

I washed dishes by boiling rainwater and adding a little bleach, cleaned up the kitchen and took our coffee out on the porch where we made our plans for the day. Pruning apple trees, starting work on cleaning out the workroom (a real nightmare, that room is!), and some painting projects for me. Larry started the generator and plugged in the fridge for a little while.

My current project. The first photo is after Larry removed bad veneer, repaired as needed and sanded.

In progress:

Deciding on which color to go with for the top, sides and drawers.

We were working on the workroom when the electric came back on. We were so busy we didn't notice for a while, until I went inside and noticed the twinkle lights on the shelf in the living room were on.

The years of living without electricity here seem to have built in some automatic responses. We shift back to our old ways of doing things pretty easily. Having free gas helps, as we have heat and can cook despite an outage. I miss the gas fridge, though--it was nice to not have to worry about food spoiling.

Today we're back to normal. Today's to-do list looks pretty much the same as yesterdays, as all of those tasks are still in progress. At least we have light, and my computer works so I can write this post.

Catchup weather history for this month:

January 2020
1: 45, 34
2.:52, 34
3: 53,50 showers
4: 51,34 showers, flurries
5: 41, 33 showers, flurrlies
6: 45, 28 showers, flurries
7: 45, 27 showers
8: 40, 26
9: 55, 23
10: 64, 50
11: 77, 59 wild wind and rain
12: 58, 42 rain in the wee hours, then mostly cloudy
13: today is nice, about 58, and no rain! There's even a wee bit of sunshine.

For a look at some weather folklore, check out this post I wrote a while back:

Speaking of the Weather


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Hot, Humid: The New Normal

It is the end of another long, hot, humid day. For a week or more the temperature has reached the mid to upper 80's every day, with high humidity thrown in for good measure. If we lived in Miami, as our youngest son does, we would be celebrating these "low" temperatures, but for this region, weather like this is not common until late June.

These are the kind of days when we get up earlier than usual and rather then dawdling around with our tea and coffee on the porch, we get our work clothes on and go directly to work. Because early mornings and late evenings are the only times it is tolerable to be working outdoors. And even then we are dripping sweat in our eyes before 8 AM. Then we come back inside to shower, get breakfast and the delayed porch time, and more often than not go right back out for a bit to feed the critters and do a little finishing up. And when we come in, another shower.

The gardens do look good, even if we planted late. Today we added more mulch to flowerbeds, mulched the cucumber plants, and I dug up the lettuce bed to re-seed it with lettuce and kale. Then some weeding, and that was enough for this day. The big garden is still waiting for Larry to get the electric fence up so we can plant. To plant without the fence would be just feeding the deer.

I went back out mid-day briefly to cut basil, parsley and thyme to dry, and to pick some parsley, green onions and thyme for the turkey noodle soup I was making for lunch. I used up the last of my homemade noodles, so that's on the to-do list, maybe for tomorrow. Larry worked on my van in the afternoon after the physical therapist left, changing the oil, adding wiper fluid and giving it a good vacuuming and washing. At 215,000 miles, we listen for every new rattle and hiss and try to take care of any problems as quickly as we can.

I spent the afternoon napping (again!) and working on paint projects. I got three small jobs finished and made progress on two others so it felt like a productive day, even with an hour nap. Larry grabbed a nap later on, something he often does, but it's rare that I will succumb and take one. I have to say I felt much better for it.

This evening we were back outside, Larry to mow for a bit and me to do more string=trimming. We are managing to maintain the place, which is not an easy job, but it will not look as nice as in past years when Larry was in top form and could do all the weed-eating.

We need rain so badly. Everywhere around us has had more than they want, with a lot of flooding, but we've been almost completely dry, Rain is forecast for tomorrow. This evening as I sat on the porch I watched that clouds moving in from the southeast, an odd sight considering almost all our weather comes from the west or occasionally from the north. I suppose these clouds are a spin-off of Tropical Storm Alberto; his reach is pretty long if so.


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

A Day of Wild Weather

Winter is not giving up easily in our hills.

Yesterday we took a little drive to see how high the Ohio River had gotten. I also wanted to go down a road I haven't traveled in years, one that borders the river on the Ohio side.

It was pretty obvious before we even got to the river that there was a LOT of water coming downstream. All the creeks feeding into the river were backed up and overflowing their banks--and we could see that rather than the water flowing out of them, it was backing up into them from the river. Many lower lying fields were inundated, but fortunately we saw no flooded houses.

As we turned down the road I wanted to travel, we saw a sign. "High Water. Road Closed."

"Better turn around," Larry said.

"Let's just go look. Sometimes they don't take those signs down after the water's gone down." Just call me optimistic.

It was pretty clear as we drove along that the water was, if anything, getting higher.

And sure enough:

So we had to turn around and I had to listen to "I told you so." Ha! I didn't mind; I knew the odds were that the road would be blocked, but I wanted to see anyway. This camp along the road had water in a lot of its buildings.

I had to laugh at this sign. I guess it could have been put in a lot of places yesterday!

This is a pretty road, and I still want to drive it to see more of the pretty farmland that borders it. Some other day.

At Ravenswood, we tried to see how deep the river was, but could not quite make out the markings on the bridge.

I took a photo and came home to enlarge it. But silly me, those markings are for the river barges and other river traffic, and show the clearance from bridge to water, not water depth. Duh.

We came on home and unloaded the few things we'd bought while we were out (you know I had to stop at a thrift or two). It was raining again by then, and that was worrying with the water already over roads in many places.

And then this started.

Huge, fat flakes that began sticking almost immediately, and coming down so fast that visibility was minimal.

The hill in the distance was completely invisible in this snowstorm.

It kept up hard and fast for a couple hours, leaving about two inches covering everything. Talk about slush. With the ground so wet, then the snow and a drop in the temperature the sidewalk looked like it had been covered with gray Slurpee. Friends who were caught driving in it reported some very slick conditions. I bet it was. I was thankful to be home.

We built a fire, got out our books, and were cozy as could be the rest of the evening. It began raining again sometime in the evening, and by this morning most of the snow was gone.

I think Spring is trying to make her entrance, but Old Man Winter isn't ready to hibernate yet. Reports are for very warm temperatures this week, and to tell the truth I'd rather it stayed cold to keep the trees and flowers from budding out too soon. But Nature will do what she will do; we're just along for the ride.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Thunderation!

Rain, wind, hail, thunder and lightning in the middle of the night. Quite a wake-up! No wonder Daisy the yellow lab wanted to stay in the house last night. She seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to weather


Thunder in winter, according to old wives' tales, can mean:

*snow within 7-10 days

*a colder than usual February

*frost in April or May

*a summer drought

*cold weather is on the way

Pic from 2007, cabin on Joe's Run

So, take your pick--I prefer the snow within 7-10 days over late frost or drought anytime.

When I stepped out on the porch at 5 a.m., it was clear as a bell and the stars looked so close. But in the distance I could hear traffic on the interstate 15 miles away, a sure sign of rain here. Usually. Or maybe I'm making up another old wives' tale?




Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Just Chatting

Good morning! The snow is leaving quickly, all gone around the house but the field across is still covered.

The snow shovel looks oddly out of place leaning against a stone wall, and I was surprised to see that the garden is plowed, hadn't remembered Larry doing that in the Fall.

Mud is everywhere, and tracked all over the porch I mopped yesterday. The perpetrators have left their prints everywhere, though, cat and dog. I will mop again today, continuing the losing battle.

The bird feeders are almost empty but the birds are not so busy as they were when it was below zero. At 45 degrees, I have the front door slightly open to let the good air inside. It smells so clean.

We went to our Ravenswood booth yesterday and added a few things; not much since sales are a little slow with all the bad weather. Still it was good to get out after 10 days at home, and to do some tidy up.

I picked up two items while we were out that had me really puzzled. First was this Peanuts cartoon mug. I spent last evening looking online through literally thousands of Charlie Brown mugs, searching with every variable term I could think of. No luck. Then I posted a photo on Facebook and a storytelling friend tagged another storytelling friend who is a cartoonist and connected to the Charles Schulz museum. With his help I was able to determine that this is not an official piece, but a knockoff made in Japan, probably in the 60's or 70's. A little help from my friends and the mystery was cleared up.

The second mystery was this piece. Was it a wine glass, a vase, a spooner, and was it old or new? The pattern and the 3-part mold seams made me think old, like Early American Pattern Glass from the late 1800's-early 1900's, but what was it and who made it? I posted a photo of this one too, in a Facebook EAPG group, and those good people confirmed it was a vase made by US Glass, probably around 1905. No pattern name, just a number. I guess some people would find this kind of thing boring but to me it is endlessly fascinating.

I spent most of Friday cleaning house. After finishing up the bedroom and the pieces I've been painting I had painting supplies everywhere, and the usual clutter was starting to build up again. So that was my priority for the day. But I did take time to play with making a collage. That was fun, and a needed break from real work.

Today, who knows? Have a good one, friends.


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Will It Rain for 40 days? Saint Swithin's Day and Other Weather Lore

Happy Saint Swithun's (or Swithin's) Day!

I've just been reading about St. Swithun at the A Clerk of Oxford's site. I didn't know much about Swithin, except this rhyme:

St. Swithin, from Wikipedia

St Swithun's day if thou dost rain
For forty days it will remain
St Swithun's day if thou be fair
For forty days 'twill rain nae mare

Oh dear. It dawned fair here, but there were some showers last night. Were they finished before midnight? I don't know. I'd like to have a nice balance of rain and fair, please, Saint Swithin! But how would one do that, given the words of the proverb.

another English rhyming proverb about rain says

The rainbow in the morning
Is the shepherd’s warning
To carry his coat on his back;
The rainbow at night
Is the shepherd’s delight
For then no coat will he lack.

And from Scotland, there is this:

The weather’s taking up now

For yonder’s the weather gaw;

How bonny is the east now!

Now the colors fade awa’.”

Decipher that for me?  This one is more clear to my Western brain:

from wikimedia

If the robin sings in the bush,
Then the weather will be coarse;
If the robin sings on the barn,
Then the weather will be warm.

The wind plays a role in weather we will have rain or not, apparently, so take heed:

James Gillray, c1808

The west wind always brings wet weather,
The east wind cold and wet together,
The south wind surely brings us rain,
The north wind blows it back again.

Whatever the weather, we will have it, whether or no, that's for certain. It looks to be a fair St. Swithin's Day here, and perhaps the grass will dry enough to be mowed this evening. In the meantime, there is a pile of cabbages waiting on me today, so I'll be inside anyway.







Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

The Simple Life

 It was a pleasure to get back to home things after so many days away. Coming in to sleep, do laundry, shower, dress and run out again is not the way to enjoy home, although I know for many people that is everyday life. Not for me. I can do it when needed, but I much prefer long slow mornings, puttering in the gardens, coffee and tea on the porch, watching the pets and birds and messing about with whatever project we have on at the time.

Yesterday was very, very hot and so humid it seemed like the very air dripped. The temperature never reached 90 but it felt like we were in a tropical rain forest. Afternoon rain fell straight down, as if the clouds were just so full they could hold no more liquid. Then in the evening the fog began rolling in well before dark. I worried about people who had to be on the road as visibility must have been very bad.

I've noticed lately that there is once again a plenitude of deer. For a few years the deer population seemed to be waning but this year there is a bumper crop of fawns. They are so pretty with their red coats all white-spotted. The bucks are growing their antlers, still covered with velvet of course. I saw a herd of at least ten or twelve on our hill the other night when I stopped to take photos of the sunset.

Which reminds me--the sunset lied. It was a lovely rosy red one, which is supposed to mean no rain the next day, but rain it did. Maybe there was a red sunrise and I missed it.

The roadsides are full of bloom right now and I hope I can get out with my camera to capture some of it. Yellow and brown black-eyed Susans, blue chicory, red-orange butterfly weed, white daisies and Queen Anne's Lace, wild pink spirea, orange daylilies, lavender vetch and brilliant yellow sweet clover, along with many others, make a display we will not believe could be possible when we see photos of it next winter. There is quite a lot of milkweed in bloom on Joe's Run too, and I hope it attracts the Monarch butterflies.

It's been a good year for hay and the farmers have been making the best of it. I remember June days in the hayfield, driving across our steep meadow as my sons piled the bales on the truck, and the sweet smell of the new-cut grass. I can't say I miss it, but I appreciate the hard work of those out there covered in dust and seed, getting the hay put away for their livestock's winter feed. Our livestock is limited to chickens and honeybees these days, a far simpler job to care for.

News from friends and family is full of both joy and sadness. My second cousin and his wife had their first child, my niece got married, many are on vacation. Others have lost loved family members and pets, some have had to deal with serious, sudden health issues.

Life is never simple, really, is it? Many covet country life for its simplicity but the truth is it is as complicated and full of tragedy, comedy and romance as any other place.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Cats Don't Like Baths: Welcome March Lion!

March came in like a lion in this part of the world--a soaking wet, angry, windblown lion at that. But then what cat likes a bath?

We are grateful that the temperatures are above normal for this time of year because if all of the rain we've had lately had been snow, we'd have to stick a flag on the chimney to locate the house. Often we already have some garden planted by now, and that is something else I am grateful for--we haven't planted yet, except for lettuce in a cold frame. If gardens had been planted, the seeds would end up sprouting somewhere along the banks of the Ohio. The lettuce is undeterred by the wildness of the weather as it sprouts its tiny greenness beneath glass. Thank goodness for glass!

Even here on top of the hill water is running off in streams, some cutting new channels and gurgling and making mini-whitecaps as they go. There will be some work to do straightening up the mess when things dry up a bit. It reminds of the days when my sons were young and a big storm would strike. As soon as the storm was over they would run over the hill to our little run, build dams, float sticks to see how fast they'd go downstream and all sorts of other boy activities. It would keep them entertained for hours. I didn't have to worry because our run is never dangerously full; it's a very small stream and often is completely dry. Which, I was once told, is why it's called a run--"Sometimes it runs and sometimes it don't."

So now here we are in March. The month of spring's arrival, of daffodils and forsythia and early garden planting. And yet it feels so odd, as if we somehow skipped winter. I remember a winter when the temperature dropped to 30 below zero here, and stayed below zero for weeks. When wells froze 42 inches down, when city water pipes froze and burst two feet below ground. When our road was piled so deep in drifts that it was March before the state came with big endloaders and dug us out and the boys missed a month of school because we couldn't get out except by walking and the bus was stopping four miles away.  So perhaps this is the other extreme; instead of memories of the worst winter ever, we will have memories of the mildest winter ever. I sincerely hope that this is just that, a record warm winter, and not what will be the new normal. Because I like winter; I like the quiet, the snow, the complete change, the forced opportunity to just gather in.

The electricity has been up and down, surging and dimming. Lights flicker, the computer goes off, the surge protector protects, and my writing is interrupted over and over again as one storm after another roars passed this morning. So perhaps I had better close while I can, and leave you all with a wish for the best of days in this coming month, and may winter not rear its head again now that the flowers are in early bloom and the fruit trees are budding. Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit, yall!

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

So Hot That...

It started with Tony. He put up a post on Facebook about this heat wave. Tony had some pretty descriptive ideas for the heat, which prompted more from his friends. I picked up the idea and started a post on my own Facebook page, inviting people to share their "It's so hot that..." yarns. There were some great submissions, and that made me think I should share them with you. (And that is how some blog posts come about, isn't it? One idea leading to another.)

So here they are, starting with my original post. The names have been removed to protect the innocent:

My friend Tony Toledo posted that it was so hot in his neck of New England that the birds were using potholders to pull the worms out of the ground. I responded with "in WV it's so hot the chickens are laying hard-boiled eggs and the potatoes are already baked when we dig them up. So hot the compost heap is turning into coal before our very eyes. So hot the shine makers have changed over to making ice wine."

It's so hot in New Mexico that the green chilis are becoming Chili Rellenos on the vine!

Sad to say it's so dry up here in New Hampshire I used a thimble to empty a pond and I still had room in it for the surviving fish. The frog wouldn't fit, but I took him down to the river. 

It's so hot, I'm sweatin' like a whore in church. 

It is so hot in Ohio that the corn is sweating. (No joke. Corn sweat is a real thing!)

It's so windy here, a chicken laid the same egg four times...

So hot in MA my brain is too fried to think of anything better to quip with...and we are breathing pea soup from the humidity.

It was so hot yesterday, I baked a 2 layer carrot cake in my car.

So hot here in SE Ohio that the maters are already stewed as I pick them from the vine and the oregano is already dried and ready to be stored away for adding to those maters during the winter when I get a hankering for spaghetti!!

So hot here in NC, the watermelons are exploding like bombs in the fields...and this is true! Really messy. No it is true. my neighbor grows a big field of them. if you don't get them out of the field quick when they are ripe, they fester and explode. he gave us three. Two were delicious, but one blew up on the table outside on the porch. OMG the mess to clean up. Seeds on the ceiling. Red melon meat everywhere. And it did not smell too pleasant either. Yes it looked like a slaughterhouse.

It's so hot here in Illinois that our corn on the cob comes pre-popped. (And if you think it can't happen, check out this video.)

So hot that the devil is interviewing our engineers.

So hot that everything upright is now considered a wick.

So hot that in constantly kicking the bedsheets off, I've now trained harder than Michael Phelps.

And it's so hot that Trump comes here to inhale.

"It's so hot the lead melted off my homework."

It's so hot in NE Texas this morning that I almost got mugged by a gecko when I went out with the water hose to spray off the patio.

It's so hot here in NH that lobsters are jumping in pots of boiling water just to cool off. 

The sunflowers have died in SC. True story....mostly due to drought ..

So hot you don't have to iron your clothes. Just lay them out on the porch for ten minutes.

So hot the popcorn popped in the field. The plow mule thought it was snow and froze to death. This is an old south Georgia joke from my childhood. I live in VA now where we have real snow just not right now.

So hot the hot air coming out of the U.S. Capitol feels like air conditioning.

It's so hot, Trump had to take off his wig.

It's so hot here in Ohio, the vegetables out there in my garden have aleady turned into
succotash.

So hot that I just cooked eggs on the top of the car.

In the cool Colorado mountains, it's warm (by your standards). Sometime we call it hot if we're in the sun for too long.

It helps to laugh about it--knowing so many of us are in the same hot boat makes it better somehow.

So, how how is it where you are?


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Speaking of the Weather...

Apparently there is quite a storm heading our way this weekend, if the forecasters are to be believed.

I think I may follow the example of Carolyn over at Roundtop Ruminations and watch the birds to see if they begin feeding more heavily in the next few days, an indication of bad weather on the horizon. My husband always says that the deer will be out feeding too, before bad weather, and then disappear as the storm gets closer. For myself, I find that I get very thirsty the day before a snowstorm. I don't know why that should be true, but there it is.

I've written quite a few weather posts over the years I've been keeping this blog, with several about weather folklore. Here are links to some of those posts:

Sundogs? Weather Dogs? Yes indeed. Pogonips too.

January, it seems, could have its own weather book,

But so could November.

How to prepare for winter, according to folklore, anyway.

Winter isn't alone in having lots of weather sayings and beliefs. There are plenty for rain too.


Then are websites that offer more advice for predicting weather by watching the world around you:

Even TV weathermen get into it, apparently.

Tristan Cooley, who runs a natural navigation school and has written several books on the topic, offers an interesting list of lore and fact on his website.

Homesteading blogger Granny Miller has a list of 50 weather signs to watch for on her website, and claims she can just watch her dogs and cats and know what's coming weatherwise.

So let's see how these old-time predictors fare with the coming storm. Will they be accurate? Will they fail? Or will the weather just be the weather, whether we want it or no?


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Rain, Rain

And happy I am to see it, after a long worrying dry spell in May. In this area we average about 44 inches of precipitation a year--a lot by some standards but it's what keeps us so green and lush. And when it doesn't rain for a week or so, I start worrying.

Sunday as I was leaving the grocery store it started to shower while the sun was still shining. I looked for a rainbow but saw none. Still, as I said to a woman beside me, "Rain when the sun shines means rain tomorrow." And that's almost always correct.

The rain crows--morning doves, actually, but Larry has always called them rain crows--are another predictor of coming rain. If they're calling, expect rain within 24 hours. They're not always accurate though. I suppose even birds have opinions about the weather.

No dew in the morning often means rain on the way too, as does cows lying down or huddled under trees, leaves blowing over, a pink or red sunrise, a ring around the moon, and a wind from the south.

Are there any ways that you predict coming weather? I'd love to hear them. Oh, and I left out the most obvious one of all--water all the gardens thoroughly and it will surely rain. That's been our experience, anyhow!


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Snowy, Snowy Day

The weather people were right. It snowed!

Larry had collected our wood stepladders to get ready to take to booths; now they make  pretty cool snow sculpture.

And snowed and snowed, until in the end I think there's about 12 inches of wet white stuff out there. It's incredibly beautiful, so bright it almost hurts the eyes.

Of course, with a wet, heavy snow like this, the power is bound to go out. We've been fortunate this winter with no power outages, until today. Sometimes during the night the electricity went off, and when I called to report it the projected restore time was 11:00am tomorrow. We were prepared for it to be off, though--we put about 20 gallon jugs of water in the cellar, took our showers before going to bed, set up the morning's coffee and tea things, rounded up flashlights and made sure the kerosene lamps were full.  We also thought about what things we could get into if the power was out.

Free gas is a real blessing in an outage. Our cookstove, heat, and refrigerator run on gas so the only inconveniences are lack of lights, and the water not running. One day we'll get one of those natural gas generators and we won't even notice when the lights go out.

We still had plenty to do. Washing dishes takes a little more time, and Larry had a date with the snow shovel. I had a huge pile of papers that needed to be sorted and filed so I got that out of the way,

and then I worked on getting the polyurethane coat on the cabinet I painted yesterday and on the doors for it that Larry had stripped and stained.

He's already started stripping the door on the new pantry cupboard so I reckon I'll be painting it too in the near future.

Both of us enjoyed watching the birds at the feeders.

There must have been over 50 out there, and I counted 12 male cardinals at one time.

Love that little snowbird sitting right on top!

The feeders were busy, busy. I was glad we'd bought more seed when we were in town the other day because they are really going through it.

I never tire of looking at the snow.

When it was getting dark I started the process of lighting lamps and candles while Larry built a fire in the fireplace. I noticed that some of the oil lamps needed their wicks trimmed so I did that before lighting them. We'd just settled in by the fire, wondering what do next with the house being so dim, when, voila! The lights came on!

Tomorrow Larry will get out the tractor, and I hope he'll be able to get the driveway clear enough for us to get out to town. We'll see. With temperatures predicted to be below zero tonight, the snow will freeze, and I am not sure how easy it will be to clear. A foot of snow is a lot to move off a 1/4 mile long road that is all uphill. If he can't get it done, I reckon we'll just wait for the weekend's warmer temperatures to do the job.

I am worried about that warming trend, though. Flooding was already happening before this storm. I only hope those high waters have a chance to recede before this new snow melts. For those of you along creeks and rivers, I'll be thinking of you and hoping you stay high and dry.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.