The big wind storm knocked nearly every one of the heavily laden plants over where they lay in the mud produced by our continuing rains. What a mess that created. At the moment, I'm so bummed out at any and all mention of Brussels sprouts, I've vowed not to grow them next year.
Today we had rain all day long. Again. The same is forecast for tomorrow and Wednesday. And oh, by the way, we're to expect high winds for tomorrow night with the rain.
There's no doubt in my mind that even if the rain stops by the time we're ready to harvest our potatoes, they will be one huge muddy mess with which to deal. The carrots won't be that much of a problem as the wet, soft earth will make pulling them easy. A quick spray off with the hose and they'll be ready to be stored.
I just ran across a quote from John Greenleaf Whittier in his poem, "The Pumpkin":
What moistens the lip,
and what brightens the eye,
What calls back the past,
like the rich pumpkin pie!
(Of course, then there's Garrison Keillor who has said the best pumpkin pie you've ever tasted is not that much different than the worst.)
I'm bummed that I didn't grow either Jack O' Lantern pumpkins or pie pumpkins this year. Just couldn't find room for them. I have one package of pureed pumpkin left from last year, but after that I will have no more. Next year, somehow, some way, I'm finding room to grow pie pumpkins for sure.
Ask me if my legs are sore. Cowabunga, Chief, are my legs ever sore! Even though the moisture so frequently falling from the sky has made it nearly impossible, whenever there has been a break in the miserable weather and the surfaces are dry enough, I've been working on painting the trim on the house.
I've done my share of painting on ladders in my life but never have I had such sore muscles from doing so. With the paint can in one hand, the brush in the other, I must be trying to hang onto the ladder with my leg muscles, primarily the long ones (quadriceps?) in the front because those are the ones that are causing me to have to drop out of any and all hurdle races. (Ha-ha.)
I suspect my body is just tired at this point after a busy, busy summer of physical exertion.
A book I'm currently reading is "Swimming in the Sink" by Lynne Cox, the elite athlete and open-water swimmer. She talks about a medical problem she experienced and the severe exhaustion (both physical and emotional) she suffered at one point in her life. At that time, she realized she had to listen to her body and would sleep 12 hours, get up, drink a couple glasses of water, eat an apple, go back to bed and sleep another 24 hours straight, etc.
That's what I want to do right now. Shed all responsibilities, crawl into bed with a stack of good books (for those waking moments) and sleep, read, sleep, read, sleep. (With my bladder, there would be slight interruptions for trips to the little room a few steps from the bedroom, of course. And maybe to the kitchen for that apple or two.)
No, I'm not anywhere near severe exhaustion in any way, shape or form, but I wouldn't mind some serious relaxation for a day. Or six.
And isn't this dreary, dark, rain-filled weather just perfect for that?