Dog Days of Summer

I don’t think I’m alone in thinking that this has been the hottest summer in Georgia history! We have had week after week of temperatures in the 90s and 100s, with no relief from the summer heat wave. I don’t ever remember a summer being this hot for this long, or one that didn’t give us a little relief from the heat at least a few times during the season. Being a warm-weather person, I’ve never complained about summer – until this year. For the first time in a long, long time, I am actually looking forward to Fall, brisk breezes, and a chill in the air.

Our garden finally succumbed to the heat, with the exception of the okra and jalapeno peppers. They thrive in hot house conditions! We have more okra than we know what to do with, and I’ve been giving it away to anyone who expresses the slightest interest in it or reveals a twinkle in the eye at the mention of fried okra. It will probably continue bearing into September, unless I go crazy and pull all of the plants up in protest for their love of this stifling heat! It looks like I’ll have jalapenos for a few more weeks, and I know that they will sell well at the Saturday market if I don’t have a use for them. I’ve been making candied jalapenos this summer, so I’ll probably make another batch of this delicious concoction before offering up peppers for sale or as gifts. The butterflies also love this last hurrah of summer, as they feast on the nectar of the okra and zinnia blossoms. The heat doesn’t seem to bother them at all.

This is the last week that the blueberry farm is open, and I am already in mourning. Yesterday morning at sunrise I was at the farm picking my last bucket of berries, knowing that it would be my last until next summer. I’ve feasted on fresh blueberries all summer long, and it’s truly a sign that summer is coming to an end when the gates close to my beloved blueberry farm. I am sad thinking about it, and it seems like a long, long time before next summer comes around again.

Yes, the Dog Days of summer are upon me, and I am tired. Tired of being outdoors at the first hint of daylight picking vegetables, tired of standing at the kitchen sink and stove half of the day preparing vegetables and fruit for preserving, tired of weeding, and tired of worrying about critters getting into my garden and feasting on the fruits of my labors. But I know that by March 2011 I’ll be excitedly planning a new garden, selecting seeds and getting them started in tiny pots indoors, wishing for days of wearing shorts and t-shirts with no layering involved in my daily attire, and longing to get my hands into the dirt. All I need are a few months of cold weather to forget these August Dog Days, and I’ll be ready for a brand new summer.

In the meantime, I think I’ll escape into my air-conditioned home for these last steamy summer days, and begin thinking about some cold weather projects, all the while giving thanks for our bulging freezers and overflowing pantries. It’s been a hot summer, but it’s been a very good one.

It's Blueberry Time!!

I’ve been watching and waiting for the “Blueberries” sign to go up at the corner of Spring and Hightower in Social Circle, pointing the way to Hard Labor Creek Blueberry Farm. The date has been circled on my calendar for at least two months – June 26 – so I knew that the farm was scheduled to open this past week-end. Seeing the sign was all the assurance I needed that the day had finally arrived!

I couldn’t go on opening day, and it just about killed me knowing that other people were getting my blueberries. I wasn’t generous at all in my thoughts, even though I knew there would be plenty of blueberries for everyone, as well as for all of the birds and deer. I thought about blueberries all day long.

“They’re as big as grapefruits!” proclaimed a friend when I asked her if she’d been to the farm yet. Her husband quickly corrected her exaggeration, stating, “There are some the size of quarters – big, juicy, and sweet.”

O.K. I had to wait, and without a lot of patience. The farm is closed on Sundays, so I spent the next day dreaming about blueberries ripening in the summer sun, waiting, like me, for Monday morning.

I awakened early Monday before dawn, with you-know-what on my mind. I waited as long as I possibly could, at least until sunrise, since the farm opens at dawn. I watched the sky brighten with the new day, and at 7:30 am, I was in my car driving the six miles to the blueberry farm.

I wasn’t the first person there. Two cars ware already parked in the field. I hopped out of my car, grabbed a couple of buckets, selected the row I wanted to pick from, and began my blueberry quest. The birds chirped their welcome (or was it a warning?) from the trees as I meandered my way down the row picking my berries. It was quiet and peaceful, and my thoughts drifted as I made my way from tree to tree selecting the most beautiful blueberries I was sure I'd ever seen. Grapefruit-sized berries eluded me - but I found lots and lots of luscious berries, ranging from pea-sized to the size of a big shooter marble. I was a happy girl, picking blueberries, listening to the birds, and dreaming of bowls of fresh berries and homemade preserves to feast on all summer long.

With my two buckets filled to the brim, I reluctantly left the blueberry field to pay for my morning’s bounty. By this time, I was excited about getting home, dividing out my berries to give some away, making preserves and syrup, and nibbling on fresh berries the rest of the day.

Let’s see – when will I go back? As soon as I have a couple of hours to spare. There are still more blueberries out there waiting for me!