Summer

The only way to enjoy the Dog Days.

The Dog Days of Summer are here in the state of Texas.   My energy level will continue to go down, slowly, until I'll just be a puddle of sweat by the time mid-September hits and brings slightly cooler weather.  I am stubborn about defending my plants and my yard against the heat.  I go to extremes to keep them going.  

I get up at six and start watering in between feeding the pets.  Because of the butcher job that Asplundh did to our trees last spring, the back strip of our backyard gets eight hours of full-on sun.  St. Augustine does not appreciate this much sun.  (Most living things don't unless they are thriving in the Sahara Desert.)  So in between sprinkler system waterings (every two days), I am moving our tiny portable sprinkler around.  I water all my backyard pots.  Every other day I get our flower beds in the back.  All before Gabriel ever gets up.  

We try to walk Molly three to four times a week.  In this heat, we have to be out the door by 7:45 at the latest or it's just already too hot.  This morning it was so humid I think I lost 5 pounds just by sweating.  Once it gets cooler, Jav can walk her two nights a week, which allows me to have the energy to mix up my workout a little with yoga or something besides walking.  We also move our walk time to later in the day once it cools down, which means we get to move a little slower in the mornings.

When Gabriel goes down for his nap, I fill up the birdbaths and various other water receptacles all over the yard, finish watering the beds in the front, and do any other ancillary outside tasks like spraying for bugs (organic, of course).  And then after doing the dinner dishes every night, I get the flower pots out front.  Twice a week I drag out the front hose to water our baby tree on a slow-drip all night long.   It still needs a little pampering since it's not two yet, just like Gabriel.    

Spreading out the yard tasks allows me to get it all done without getting total burnout.   But when the highs get into the hundreds, I start to get burned out anyway.  I have daydreams of pulling up all the grass on the backyard strip and putting in a lap pool.  I try to make myself like the way cactus looks in a landscape.  I determine that next spring I'm not going to plant ANYTHING new that will cause more watering.  

But by the time every spring arrives, I've blocked out the pain of the Dog Days, and can't wait to get new things in the ground.  I guess I'm a slow learner.  We're off to find a bigger backyard pool for Gabriel, one I can possibly fit it too.  Or at least my feet.