Weather Talk

 

Lake Chelan

Last weekend was all birthday shenanigans with friends and we ventured to Lake Chelan in search of the elusive sun.

We were sitting around the fire the first night --an assortment of friends, including a new friend who had recently arrived from Texas. The talk, as it often does, turned to the weather. Texas friend asked when he could expect summer to arrive and without hesitation, the two of the native Pacific North Westerners answered “July fifth!”

 

Unless July fifth falls on a weekend, I added. Then you can expect summer to arrive the following Monday.

I think he thought we were joking, but weather rules are a Thing. Everyone knows that in the Pacific Northwest—specifically eastern Lewis County—summer does not reliably arrive until after the first week in July. Odds are, July 4th will be a bit rainy, but as soon as we get it behinds us—full bloom summer. Unless July 5th falls on a weekend. If it does, the weather could remain rainy, but NO MATTER WHAT-- the sun is guaranteed to come out on the first Monday after the 4th of July holiday. IT’S A RULE. NO RAIN AFTER JULY 5. EVERYONE KNOWS THAT.

Oh, sure—sometimes Mother Nature forgets and summer arrives off-schedule. Take last summer, for example, when we experienced a phenomenal heat wave in June, with temperatures over the 110* mark for multiple days. Glaciers melted, rivers raged and ice cubes were the new currency. 

This year, we’ve had MayVember weather—instead of sun and heat, we’ve had rain and more rain--cold rain that made opening day of Gardening Season seem unattainable, and sunshine seem like it was something we don’t do anymore...

But my weather app on my phone promises that by the time you are reading this, summer should actually act like summer. Break out the sunblock!

"Je Suis Prest"

"I am ready" 
(for you non-Outlander fans)

Goodbye MayVember

 Goodbye to May—which at times seemed more reminiscent of November than of May—and hello June! Goodbye to hail, sleet, and snow—-although to be fair I don’t remember if we actually had sleet/snow in May, but boy, it sure felt like we did.

I finally planted my flowerpots on the 25th of May---the latest ever. Now I am free to battle the slugs for my plants and lament my petunia choices every time it rains. In other words—-business as usual.

 

I have twice relocated my garage toad to the front flower bed. I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t want to live in his little clay Toad House, surrounded by flowers, but apparently he derives some perverse pleasure out of appearing unexpectedly indoors. Yes, that screeching noise came from me.

Garage Toad

Garden Toad

 

My straw bale garden is busily composting away. I have yet to plant any peas, carrots, beans, or anything by seed. My tomato starts are cozily tucked into the bales, and the pepper plants that have survived the slugs are starting to look like they might recover. I don’t have to plant any cilantro or dill as they have both self-propagated—the cilantro at a prolific, nearly noxious-weed rate. This year I have one pumpkin plant—so far—so the neighborhood should be relatively safe. I only planted one hill of zucchini. Time will tell if I can keep the number of drive-by veggie drops to a minimum.

 

As is my way, I have started a new project—before completing my last project. One of my garden sheds from last year is still without its roofing shingles, but I didn’t let that stop me from ordering two loads of cedar chips from Packwood Prospecting and putting in a play area for the grandkids—the landscaping of which will probably be completed in three to five years, or 18 new projects later, whichever comes first.

Outdoors Indoors: Gardens, Books, and Some Talk about Cake

The weather the last few days have been glorious. Sunny. Warm. In February! Perfect time to go do those early spring garden chores—you know, the ones put off last fall. Cleaning debris from the flower beds, pulling a few early weeds, looking over the remains of the straw bale garden and planning a future one. I find myself lingering in the outdoors, savoring the scents and signs of new growth. Clearly, we are experiencing an early spring and I am all for it.

At the same time, I’ve been on a Good Book Roll—reading back-to-back-to-back novels, with excellent storytelling and enticing characters. All I want to do is indulge in the next chapter. And the chapter after that. And then on to the next book! READ ALL THE BOOKS! I stay up late reading and have to remind myself to go outside and play. Because-- as much as I am ready to declare SPRING HAS ARRIVED--I am aware of the transitory aspect of Mother Nature’s moods. She rarely—if ever—minds me, and the rain will return.

In the summertime, my way of solving the good book vs. play outside dilemma is talking books. Instead of bulky CDs, Timberland Library has a new and improve format for listening called “Playaway.” Playaway is a small, compact pre-loaded audiobook that is powered by AAA battery (included.) And by small I mean about the size of your old iPod, very pocket friendly. No other device, tech, or Wi-Fi connection is needed—but you do need to supply your own earbuds. Or an auxiliary cord if you want to listen in the car. Look for Playaway in orange cases-- about the size of a DVD case. Timberland has about a thousand titles available, which makes it easy to have your indoor cake and eat it outside. If the outdoors is cake—and a good book is like eating cake—then this metaphor seemed much better in my head.

Speaking of good books—Friends of the Library have books for sale at deeply discounted prices. Proceeds go to fun summer reading programs and other fun activities. In Packwood, books are also available for—literally—pocket change, at both the library and from The Mt. Goat Coffee Shop. Caffeine and books—an excellent combo! C.S. Lewis said, “You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me,” and I couldn’t agree more.

If you’d like to join Friends of the Library, their Zoom meetings are 6 pm, 3^rd Tuesday of each month. E-mail friendsofpackwoodlibrary@gmail.com for a link.

Spring Sprang Sprung

 “Hot enough for you?” Not the phrase you expect to be on people’s lips this time of year, but this weekend was certainly worthy of that exact conversation. Temperatures were well into the 70’s-- and even above that in some locations.

Aiden enjoys the outdoors

Vultures taking the sun

Tea Party

Congrats to the Newest Husky!

It was perfect weather for dining al fresco with friends and neighbors, celebrating milestones—congrats to Maricella—a newly minted “Husky”! Tea parties on the back deck, cuddling babies, moving into a new house—congrats Cameron and Beth! Mowing the grassing, hiking into* Packwood Lake, and all manner of other, outdoor, fair weather activity activities. 

John like cake. Clearly.

Lane didn't get any cake. Sad.

It was really good cake tho

*Disclaimer: we did hike into Packwood Lake. Just not all the way. Most of the way, sure. But once I started post-holing in a snow field that went on as far as the eye could see, well—that seemed a sign from the Patron Saint of Hikers that it was time to turn around. So, we did.

Spring seems to have sprung with intention this year. However, I am a lifelong Northwesterner and this is not my first rodeo. Even as I formulate these words I can feel the clouds rolling in. Good thing I already mowed my lawn. And yes, I call my patch of thatch, moss, and weeds “lawn.” It’s green, and I mow it: lawn. It was also very dusty, so if you were my neighbor? This would have been a very bad weekend to hang your laundry out to dry.

My straw bales are “cooking” nicely. It won’t be long before I’ll be able to plant them. And speaking of plants, I’m really itching to start my annual Nursery-Hopping Road Trip. I guess “trips” plural would be more accurate, because once I start buying flowers it’s hard to stop. 

Speaking of flowers---during our hike on Sunday I spotted a lone Lady Slipper orchid; a fragile wildflower I haven’t seen in years. Perhaps Lady Slippers were just waiting for the perfect spring day to put in their appearance. 

Mish, Even More Mashed—Support Groups and SBG

 I’m thinking of starting a support group. NOT, as you might be supposing—based on this title—for Straw Bale Gardeners, but a support group instead, for people who love to complain about the weather.

I love to complain about the weather, and—all bragging aside—I’m very good at it. Unfortunately for me, my talents will have to lie dormant this week as we are scheduled to have day, after day, after day of good weather. That’s bound to put my skills into cold turkey/withdrawal mode. Hence the need for a support group. I’m thinking we could all get together and complain about having nothing to complain about—thereby keeping our skills sharp and our muscles warm, ready for the next round of complaint-worthy weather. Now I just need to brainstorm meeting locations—grange? Umbrella factory? — figure out the best cookie baker in my bunch, and we’ll be set to go... Thursdays at 10 a.m. work for you?

Abby is helping.

Speaking of SBG—and I was, earlier, sort of—I got my straw bales over the weekend and am ready to start prepping them. Since it’s scheduled to be sunny all week I’ll have to unfurl my garden hose to water them. Last year it rained so much during my twelve-day straw-prep period that I only had to water them myself once or twice. (Please note that I have very skillfully managed a near-complaint about being saddled with a stretch of good weather. Skillz, I haz ‘em!)

If you’re thinking a SBG sounds like fun, get yourself to your nearest feed store or friendly farmer—I go to Overby’s in Randle. Good prices, and he loads it right in the vehicle for me. It would be even better service it he UNLOADED it for me—but in all fairness, I didn’t actually ask him the availability of that service. He offered to bag the bale for me, to keep the chafe out of my upholstery. Which turned out to be a service I should have taken him up on. In other related news: air compressors and lint-rollers combined, will—eventually--remove the chafe. “Eventually” is doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence.

Ryan Gosling--get it?

If you live in Onalaska, I recommend Premium Quality Hay and Feed for straw. They are located right off of Highway 12, which is handy. Unfortunately, they also carry adorable baby goslings, and I spend way too much time trying to convince myself that that I don’t really need a baby Russian Goose named Ryan...

Once you have your straw—I’ll leave it to your own discretion when it comes to your goose needs-- just place the bales in a sunny location, sprinkle ½ cup of cheap, nitrogen rich fertilizer on them every other day for a week. Give them a good soaking each day you fertilize. Days 7-9: ¼ cup fertilize; use warm water to saturation. Day 10 is one cup per bale of a balanced, slow release fertilizer. On day 12 you can plant!

Probably best you didn’t get the goose after all, since Ryan is bound to pull up all your little seedlings...but it WOULD give you something to complain about...

Perfect Storm is Perfect

 I have a bad habit of seizing on the first sunny day after the snow melts and declaring “Early Spring!”

Monday was perfect for such a declaration. We turned the calendar page from snowy February to springy March and the sun rose to meet the occasion. Yes, yes, I can hear all the literalist out there saying “actually, the sun rises every day” but I think you take my meaning. I’ll show you my poetic license if I must-- but now we are getting way down the bunny trail here and why do you always do this to me?

Where was I? Oh yes, Perfection.

A sunny start to a new week, a brand-new month. March is the month of Spring, of an extra hour of daylight, of green things—including green beer, but I shall not digress again. March is the perfect month of new beginnings.

Aiden Allen

I used my perfect day to go play outside with my grandson Aiden and it was marvelous. We played in his clubhouse. We examined tree bark, and needles and cones—some of which tastes better than you might imagine, just saying. We walked around his backyard a looked at all the growing things his mom has nurtured. Things that are now readying themselves to burst forth and bloom—and I can’t wait.

I started daydreaming about seedlings, about straw bales and garden centers...about trips to all my favorite nurseries....

Anyway—all of that is to say that Monday was such a perfect storm of Perfect that I plum forgot I needed to write a new Over My Garden Gate.

Sorry about that. Maybe next week?

Because Happiness Is the Truth: Pony Edition

 I know what you’re thinking: with all that’s going on these days, she’s going to complain about Weather Whiplash again. And you are --kinda, sorta-- right. While also being wrong. Welcome to 2020.

There is a lot going on, and the weather has not been the least of it. We’ve had drought and smoke. We’ve had fires “next door.” Then the rains came—and like all good Pacific Northwesterners, we greeted its return.

 Three days later, it was hard to believe that imminent conflagration had ever been a concern. Also, could it stop already; and who forgot to turn the winds down to low, because I’m getting really tired of retrieving my canopied porch swing out of the daylilies. 

Now my phone’s weather app is insisting that the weather is going back to sunshine for the foreseeable future. I’m planning on a glorious autumn, while simultaneously trying to figure out how to effectively bargain with Mother Nature to keep snow out of my driveway this winter. Because el Nino/la Nina—whichever one it is that dumps snow in my driveway--has been forecasted to close out 2020. Based on my previous experiences with 2020, I tend to believe this will not be a lot of fun.

Still—even in the midst of all that I could—and often DO—complain about? 2020 has seen some incredible blessings. Not the least of which is the birth of my Grand Aiden, and the marriage of Cam to his beloved Beth. I’ve developed closer bonds with my neighbors; my pumpkin vines didn’t actually impede traffic. I’ve appreciated the small, daily blessings that often go unnoticed—Look! An actual LETTER! In the MAIL! I’ve witnessed random acts of kindness, made new friends. (I know! During a pandemic! But it’s true.)

My wish for all of us, as we head into the last flurry and fury of 2020, is that we are like that optimistic little boy who, when confronted with a room full of horse dung, gleefully said “Thank you, Universe! There must be a pony in here someplace!”

Here’s hoping you find your pony. 

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October Magic

October is flying by. It seems it just got here and already we are running out of month. I have garden chores that need doing: cutting backing, thinning out, relocating. Out in my neck of the woods we’ve had a couple of light frosts but not a killing frost. Yet. My dahlias and begonias are still waiting to either be dug up and stored for the winter—that is my stated objective--or waiting to be mourned in the spring, when I realize that the slimy mass I just poked my trowel in was once a Good Thing. That, sadly, is my modus operandi.

According to my Magic 8 Ball—iPhone calls it a weather app, but honestly, as often as they are wrong I might as well let a Magic 8 Ball do the forecasting. Shane used to say that the only job in which you could be wrong 80% of the time and still expect to stay employed was having a job as a weatherman. Or weatherperson.

Where was I? Oh, right, the weather.

We just survived an intense, rainy interlude but the Magic 8 Ball says “signs point to yes” and the next few days should be sunny. Ish. Sunny-ish. Lots of time to go out and get things done.

I don’t want to brag, but I’ve already rolled up and stored most of my hoses. Actually, I DO want to brag because that’s all I’ve done. With any luck I can avoid all the other chores - argue that I can do them later. Or early next spring. Or, you know, never.

October is also a wonderful time to go for a walk, to head to the beach with friends, to suddenly decide that the garage needs cleaning. Which of these will I do? “Ask again later.”

Mixed Feelings

Summer.

I’m kind of over it.

Shocking, I know, and selfish. Since the elk have come in and eaten every last flower in my flowerbeds and have started in on the flowerpots ON MY DECK I’m thinking fall thoughts. Bring on the pumpkin scented candles and the tulip bulbs and let’s DO this thing!

Selfish.

Also crazy; as soon the unrelenting rain will return and after about two days of that I’ll be over rain and dreading the snowier than usual forecast. Dreading; because shoveling my driveway is only fun the first time. And by fun I mean not really.

So let’s recap: I’m tired of Summer, Fall is too rainy and Winter snow is beautiful only in theory, and not at all beautiful in the shoveling. Which only leaves us with Spring.

It’s clear to me what I need to do. Certainly not any of the gardening chores I’ve put off all summer: edging, weeding, spreading bark, thinning perennials. What I really need to do is buy a whole bushel of daffodil bulbs and plant them everywhere. Bring on the bulb buying!

Think how pretty that will look in the spring, when the snow finally melts and I step outside and cast my eye over all the daffodils that aren’t blooming because I missed the small window of opportunity between cool, frosty nights and frozen ground to actually plant them. Probably because I was watching the Seahawks---hopefully they were winning--- since I gave up my window to plant 194 bulbs and stayed put through the third quarter. (In this version of events, the ‘Hawks would have spent some serious money on a O-Line and kept the defense strong.) So at least I wasted the 194 bulbs I haven’t even bought yet for a good reason.

See? I can do optimism.

Go Hawks!