It has been so stinkin' hot this week! This morning the weather-person said that it'll be 97 degrees before the day is over.
I went to the garden early to pick tomatoes. Sweat started pouring out of my hair the minute I stepped out the door.
Critters had munched a bunch of the nicest tomatoes. I picked everything that seemed to be thinking about turning red. The sills on the back porch are lined up with half-ripe tomatoes, and the kitchen sink is full of mostly-ripe ones. There's a pot of water heating on the stove to scald them.
The purple hull peas needed picking, too. As I was picking them, Nanny came outside with a picking sack and a knife, wanting to know if I needed her to pick something. I was about finished with the peas by then. I said, "No, I got it." But she kept asking.
"Do you want me to pick the green beans?"
"Not today; it's too hot."
"Do you want me to pick the cucumbers?"
"Not today; we got them a few days ago."
"Do you want me to cut the okra?"
I had already spot-checked the okra, and there were only a few pods ready. I said, "Yeah, go ahead and cut the okra," and joined her in the okra rows.
I hope it cools off this week, as predicted. The garden needs weeding, and I want to pull up the pea vines and plant a new crop.
No comments:
Post a Comment