Hot. Humid. Blech.

You would think we'd be glad of any hot weather we could get this summer . . . and normally that would be the case, but along with plenty of warm weather recently we've had high, high humidity which takes the stuffings right out of both Papa Pea and me.

The grass stays wet nearly all day.  Every leaf and vegetable in the garden stays wet nearly all day.  Makes it hard to harvest (feels like you're sweating even harder when everything you touch is wet), hard to move and hard to feel much of any pep or energy.

We're fortunate that the inside our house stays on the cool side . . . even though all surfaces seem damp to the touch (yuck).  And truth to tell, we'd no doubt be happier campers if we both settled down in the living room with reading material and a cool beverage.  Unfortunately, we know good and well that our days for getting projects done outside are quickly dwindling down, so for better or worse (maybe smarter or dumber), we keep trying to make our sluggish, drippy bodies (what an attractive image) do what needs to be done.

Earlier this afternoon we went out with tape measure and stakes to try to figure out the best areas to map out for new berry-type plants and new dwarf fruit trees.  Just moving around in the blazing sun and high humidity, we both got so uncomfortable and cranky that we decided to try again after dinner tonight when it's (possibly) not so hot.

Yesterday hubby attempted (and succeeded) to mow our small hay field with the Gravely garden tractor.  But the grass was so thick and wet and heavy that he didn't have an easy time of it.  Trying to mow within a decent distance of the pond mired the wheels down in saturated gloppiness, and he strained more muscles than he knew he had wrestling with the heavy machine in an effort to keep it from becoming totally stuck.

This morning I backed into same Gravely garden tractor with the Suburban.  Bent one of the heavy bar handles of the tractor and put a medium-sized scratch/dent in the back of the vehicle and cracked a tail light.  Sigh.

See what this oppressive, humid weather does to a person?

But to end on the upside (and there truly are plenty of upsides), Papa Pea harvested enough pickling cukes for another batch of fermented pickles (which he's getting really good at producing), I got the final coat of paint on a tall chair (one that we've used constantly for forty-some years and was in baaad need of repainting) that was our daughter's when she graduated from a standard highchair, got the primer coat on both sides of a door and window that goes in the door, harvested ten beautiful slicing cucumbers from plants I thought were done producing, plus the usual multitudinous little tasks that are required on any given day.

I'll end this (mostly whiney) post with a bit of garden gratefulness . . . 

Our Swiss chard is as lush and beautiful as I've ever seen it.  This is after cutting and enjoying it for most of the summer.

I planted beets around the perimeter of this raised bed with California Poppies in the center.  It was quite the impressive display until the poppies gave up the ghost, got terribly scraggly looking, and I pulled them out.

The beets are as big as I think I've ever seen.  (I only plant the Forono variety anymore because they are so perfect for slicing and/or making into pickled beets.  Plus, I've never had them get woody.)

The asparagus ferns have formed a veritable jungle of ferny-ness which seems to get thicker every day.  So delicate and pretty and, we're hoping, indicative of great asparagus growth next year.

My bed of zinnias has finally come into its own.  I now (better late than never) have plenty to cut and bring inside.

Hope you're enjoying this holiday whether you're celebrating the end of summer or choosing to labor on the Labor Day Weekend.