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Three score and ten or more

Saturday, August 05, 2006

HOT

HOT

Last spring I posted a sort of Valentine to Georgia.  March had come and the azaleas were just blooming and the Camellias were still in bloom.  The peach trees had dropped their blooms and were beginning to set small fruits as the rhododendrons were in bloom the grapes were sprouting budding limbs along their thoroughly pruned trunks.  Even the dogwoods had started to bloom, and I was thrilled to be in Georgia.  In that post, I think I went so far as to say that we, in Georgia paid for March, April, and September with July and August heat, but it was worth it.  

No it aint, damn it.   March and April would have had to be a lot better than they were to be worth this heat, not only July, and August, but September, but for the foreseeable future.    I have many things I would like to write about today, but the doggone heat is so enervating that I can hardly work up the strength to cuss, let along be creative.  As I drove in the driveway this afternoon I looked at the pear tree so covered in fruit that the highest limbs (and it is a big tree) are bowing down almost to the ground.  I looked at it and thought that “It looks like a waterfall of pineapple (that is the type of pear) pears running down from above the roof of the house,” and that I should take a picture and put it on the blog.   But to do that, I would have to go in the house, get the camera, come back and take the picture, go back in the house and down load----- Oh heck it just aint worth the effort.  It is so hot, that it even feels hot inside the air-conditioned house.  I went in the house to take a cold shower and the water coming out of the cold water tap is hot--- I mean it, hot enough that if there were cold water, I would add it to what’s in the shower to cool it down.  One of the difficult things about Georgia is that so many of the “crops” are at the top of their game at a time when it is just about too hot (for anyone whose livelihood doesn’t depend on it) to do anything about it.

A friend called me last week to say that his fig tree was just overloaded and could I come over  and get some (I did, and that’s a whole ‘nother story), the pears are not only covering the trees but they are falling off in bunches (the way Georgia hard pears are generally picked is up off the ground)   I must have two bushels on the ground under the two trees, and I have got to go get them off the ground before I get a CLOUD of yellowjackets slurping them up and attacking anything that comes near. (Me in particular).

I’d go take a cold shower and go to bed if I could get a cold shower.   I am just so druuuug out and listless that if there were Kudzu growing anywhere near my house I wouldn’t dare go out doors for fear of the Kudzu covering me up.  Those grapes I bragged about aren’t ready for harvest but the grape arbor looks like a four foot hedge, and the arbor in the center is almost sealed off with vines.   I suppose that if I can’t work up the energy to take some pictures of this stuff I’ll try to talk one of my progeny into doing it.   Eeeeeiiiiiiiaaaah yawn.  I wonder if it will still be 100 + degrees for Christmas.

4 Comments:

At 9:36 AM, Blogger Kathleen said...

LOL Oh, I soooooo understand! Check out Saur's blog today. She has a whole different perspective.

 
At 1:05 PM, Blogger Patrick Joubert Conlon said...

Yes. When I decided to leave San Fran and looked for a new home, the first thing I looked at was the climate. I can no longer take heat. But those pears sound fab - mmm - pear wine. Oh but you don't drink booze. Pity I can't pick them up for you.

 
At 3:54 PM, Blogger Three Score and Ten or more said...

Patrick the grapes in the front yard are scuppernongs, a large pale yellow (occasionally black on some vines) grape that has a real winey reputation around here. Much more than the pears. I love to run the pears through a juicman juicer and store them in the fridge for a week. No alchohol but a wonderful taste.

 
At 11:14 AM, Blogger Three Score and Ten or more said...

I was informed by Email that to Non-southerners scuppernongs are Muskadines. (I really knew that but felt like I should clarify it for the world.)

 

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