These are the days…

…the August days, where we make salsa in the morning and put the extra cucumbers into the fridge for a friend because there are so many and they will blow up on the vines and end up on the compost pile. Tsk tsk, what a waste!

…the August days when our green bean plants have at last gotten ahead of voracious rabbits, and we get to taste our three-seed-trial. The first pile is Jade beans, the darkest green, and in our opinion, the toughest when cooked. They remind us of the bright beans on a Chinese buffet. The middle pile is Tenderette, but we aren’t sure why only some of the beans in the row are flat and wide and require pulling an actual string off the pod. It is a bit of a pain, but they are tender. The last is our old favorite, Strike. Although they are paler, they grow long and straight and are excellent as whole beans. They don’t seem to need as much cooking. Now we know.

…the August days where we fully intend to get a nice head start on school, only there is a funeral in Wisconsin, a day to do corn with friends, a few days with cousins, and somehow we approach the end of the month and have managed about eight school days. A soft start, but it is a start!

…the August days where we wonder about our decision to not install central air at this time, and it is very warm in the house. I buy a blower in the shop section at Walmart, then I set it on a stool in the doorway of the one bedroom (Greg’s room) that has a window unit. It blows cooler air out toward our living area and it is bearable.

…the August days when both our vehicles have to be inspected and neither one passes because they need some repairs, so Gabriel puts them on the lift, changes brakes, fixes tires, orders parts. Then we just take them back for the sticker and we’re kosher for another twelve-month.

…the August days that are already darkening earlier then we wish, and there are such multitudes of mosquitoes at dusk that we end up retreating to the house. We pick up our read-aloud tradition in the evenings and the girls beg for another chapter until my voice is hoarse.

…the August days when there are so many blooms in the garden that we can bring in fresh bouquets every day if we wish, plus share with friends. There are delicate dahlias, velvety sunflowers, brilliant cosmos, elegant gladiolas, and herbs gone prettily to seed so that they fill in any gaps in the vases. Sometimes the girls make enchanting fairies with the blooms.

I call it my pretty garden and it makes me happy.
That over-achieving Jerusalem artichoke on the left will need to be re-homed before next year.

…the August days of blackberries and elderberries and wild cherries, only we don’t know what to do with those last ones but there are so many on the trees that they bow down with the weight. But we make our berry-well syrup and freeze extras for winter. The blackberries are not as plentiful, more like a bonus for taking a walk.

…the August days where once again my husband’s work takes a stressful turn in the ICU as it fills up with critically ill patients and the nurses look at each other in dismay as they consider how they will make it through another season like we had in 2020. I feel the dismay too, because for a few months it felt like we could breathe freely and just maybe Covid has done its worst. So now we know it’s not over, and we will be required to have more stamina than we like.

…the August days when I look at the research, and the polarizing sides to all the stories, and I see that any decision has to be a decision made in faith because there are no guarantees. I have ignored my husband’s wishes and his firsthand experience long enough. I get the shots, and I am at peace about it. I am pleased to report that I have not turned magnetic or begun to glow in the dark. Yet.

…the August days when the frozen custard stand at the end of our road beckons imperiously, and really it is just about the best we’ve ever had, especially the tangerine sherbet, which isn’t even custard. We stand in line happily, because all too soon their windows will be shuttered for the season.

…the August days when I spend a whole afternoon with a crowd of tween girls at a pond equipped with a diving board and a rope swing. I swim a little, count heads a lot, and visit for hours with a mom-friend from church. It is a lovely way to be lazy.

…the August days when my new kitchen is almost finished. The main parts are installed; I marvel at how easily the drawers slide. There are knobs and handles ready for Gabriel to install as soon as he gets a day off monitoring patients or fixing random car troubles. The island is being built this week by our cabinet-maker, and our last bit of bowling-lane-turned-countertop needs to be sanded. So very close to finished!

…the August days with the insistent drone of late-summer insects announcing that these days are nearly over, but did we ever pack them full of goodness! Besides, there is still a lot of corn and cantelope ripening. It’s not over yet!

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