Go Away

It's been raining continuously for at least nineteen hours now. Yesterday morning was gloriously sunny, yesterday afternoon it clouded over but with a nice breeze, and it stayed warm. But it was thunderously pouring at around two this morning, and although the intensity has waxed and waned, it has rained non-stop since then. It woke me up in the middle of the night several times; one growl of thunder lasted longer than any individual clap I've ever heard. It's been a remarkable sustained effort from the raingods today.

I don't quite understand New York summer storms. While in other places the release of thunder heralds some sort of break in humidity and heat, those things seem to intensify with summer rain here. Thus for the first time in ages I'm going to have to put on the dehumidifier* on. Usually I'd empty the full tank onto the garden but, obviously, that's a little pointless right now. I think it's probably doing the garden a world of good, helping our tomatoes to grow - the tomatoes that are going to end up ripening right while I'm away. I can feel it.


* Every time I use it I think of The Onion point-counterpoint article that sadly is not online but is absolute genius:

Point-Counterpoint: Humidity
"What We Need Is More Humidity" - Duracraft Natural Warm Moisture Humidifier, Model DH-901
"Humidity Must Be Destroyed" - Edison 25 pt. Dehumidifier, Model DHE25W

The Tom Tom Club

Last year, despite some early excitement, we basically grew no tomatoes. Well, we managed to grow one, solitary tomato from seed (which was, I swear, the greatest tomato I've ever eaten). We blamed the ridiculously sweltering weather, but I'm pretty sure our ineptness had something to do with it. This was a striking change from the year before, where our landlady had somehow magically grown a billion tomatoes that we had for breakfast on toast every day for what seemed like a month.

Undeterred, we decided to try again to grow from seed this year. I did actually harden them this year, and when it came time to pot them out, in a pathetic lack of ruthlessness, we couldn't bear to chuck them out. So every possible pot contained some sort of tomato plant. We did not have any room to even consider purchased seedlings; everything is full with one of our little seeds that could. We even removed some shrubbery and, instead of letting the strawberries grow into that spot, put in our tomatoes instead.

It appears our softheartedness has paid off, because in the ground and in a random pot we have an abundance of tomatoes. Some are plum, and ripened or nearly there; the regular tomatoes are green and will be ripe in a matter of weeks. Those ground-based plants smell amazingly tomatoey - there's no other smell like that earthy, viney smell of tomatoes growing; the stems are laden down with the enormous weight of the fruit. It's glorious.

So tomatoes we're doing better with. We also have parsley, basil, rosemary, mint, sage and thyme (and a ridiculous abundance of the latter two) which is utterly satisfying as well as (boringly enough) economically sounder than continually purchasing plastic-wrapped bunches of herbs that we don't end up using.

Now we just have to work out what I did wrong to the lavender. Gah.

Hubris

I did two things this weekend that guaranteed I would wake up to thunder and pouring rain this morning.

First, I offered our house to host a friend's birthday barbecue. She's just moved, didn't feel ready, we're suckers for this, it's at our house later today.

Second, I decided this weekend it was hot enough that I had to do the annual cold-hot weather clothing switchover. This frees up a lot of space in our closet, and changes the feel of it from dark and gloomy to gloriously sunny and full of colour. There's no space for big, heavy woollen clothing in various shades of navy, grey and black. Oh no. Instead, summer dresses and skirts in a variety of yellows, reds, pinks and light blues emerge. It definitely gets one in the mood for summer.

Until it pours with rain and the rumbling of thunder wakes you up. Bummer.

Glowing

This weather does not bring out the ladylike in me. Well, superficially, I may fool you into thinking that - skirts ahoy (I do not do the shorts thing unless playing footie or at the gym - and trust me, you're grateful for that), dresses, strappy sandals.

Except right now I am sweating like a pig and sitting in the most unladylike of positions to minimise any contact my flesh may have with another part of me.

At least it's working. Sort of. And summer IS definitely here now, even if my earlier proclamations may have been a tad premature.

ps forgot to mention that cannot shower at the mo because our shower has no cold water. Just scorching hot stuff, so I smell particularly sweet, too.

oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oa...

...oa-oa-oa-oa-XACA!

We've just booked our holiday.

I am somewhat excited.

Fluttery

This day in years gone by has always been one of genuine excitement for me: The day I can start filling in my Wimbledon draw. For me, it's the real start of summer - I'd normally have finished exams or be heading towards something new. For me, despite my love of New Year, September always feels like the start of the year; it speaks of the possibility of change. This year, I will be different: I will not procrastinate, I will not leave things to the last minute. And yet, and yet... I wonder if that will change once I start work properly. For now, however, it remains, and I can get excited about some random British woman going 3-1 against Hingis. It's time to work.