Several days ago, I had my first pot of hot tea in the morning and I was actually a bit saddened by it. The fact that Summer was coming to an end just seemed depressing.
And yesterday was 96 degrees. Preceeded by a 92 degree Sunday. The last "significant" rainfall we had was May 23rd, measuring a pathetic 1.43 inches. And since June 1st, there have only been eighteen days under 90 degrees and at least twenty-five days over 100 degrees.
The entire summer, barring a small handfull of days, I've had to water the garden and fruit trees. Every. Stinking. Day. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of the crispy lawn. I'm sick of wondering if I'll lose any more livestock from the excessive heat. I'm sick of the layer of silt-like dirt dust covering everything. I'm sick of buying / feeding hay in the middle of grazing season. And speaking of hay....
I've been putting off calling our Hay Dude because honestly, I'm afriad to hear his reply when I ask him when the hay is coming. The particular field was supposed to be cut three months ago, but because of the drought, they have been waiting for it to grow long enough to justify the costs of cutting / baleing it. I'm beginning to wonder if it will even be cut this year. I'm also preparing myself for him to tell me the cost per bale has gone up. Maybe it's a good time to let go of some of our hay-burners. (OMG, did I actually type that???)
What the heak was I thinking??? Depressed because Fall was on it's way? Saddened that this heat-scorched, wilting garden, is-it-ever-gonna-rain season was coming to an end? This Summer ab-soooo-lute-ly S.U.C.K.E.D. Well, garden & weather-wise at least. And in all actuality, we haven't had it as bad as some of the other states (can you say, Texas???).
I'm more than ready for Fall.
She's ready for Fall??? I'm ready to move about 1,100 miles North! She keeps thinking I'm only joking about moving to Montana; I don't know how many more times I have to mention it before she starts taking me seriously. She gets to go indoors when it's 115 degrees outside, but I'm stuck in an oversized sheet-metal oven cranking a wrench over a hot diesel engine 10 hours a day. We don't sweat at work; we render.