Finishing up at work on time today, I headed home arriving just as Jilda was walking out the door to go teach at the rehab center.
I spent an hour writing on the screen porch. I'm working on the column that's due tomorrow and after a while, I could feel my muscles and joints were epoxafying (is that a word.)
Walking to the back deck, I grabbed my walking stick and headed out toward the barn with Caillou. The last several days of low humidity and cooler temps had spoiled me. Today, neither were a factor. While it wasn't oppressively hot, the humidity was as thick as grits.
By the time I'd made the first lap, my shirt looked as if someone had hosed me down. After walking up the road in front of our house to check for litter, I swung down through the yard. The mammoth water oak in the front yard keeps the noonday sun at bay, making the house cooler. But the evening sun slips beneath just before it disappears below the horizon and bathes the flower garden in a few precious moments of sunlight.
It was during those moments when I walked by the flowers sitting by our front walk. I snapped a picture of the impatiens in the rock vases. A gurgling fountain was just out of the picture.
Finding a place on the side porch steps, I sat for a while because it seemed like the thing to do.
I spent an hour writing on the screen porch. I'm working on the column that's due tomorrow and after a while, I could feel my muscles and joints were epoxafying (is that a word.)
Walking to the back deck, I grabbed my walking stick and headed out toward the barn with Caillou. The last several days of low humidity and cooler temps had spoiled me. Today, neither were a factor. While it wasn't oppressively hot, the humidity was as thick as grits.
By the time I'd made the first lap, my shirt looked as if someone had hosed me down. After walking up the road in front of our house to check for litter, I swung down through the yard. The mammoth water oak in the front yard keeps the noonday sun at bay, making the house cooler. But the evening sun slips beneath just before it disappears below the horizon and bathes the flower garden in a few precious moments of sunlight.
It was during those moments when I walked by the flowers sitting by our front walk. I snapped a picture of the impatiens in the rock vases. A gurgling fountain was just out of the picture.
Finding a place on the side porch steps, I sat for a while because it seemed like the thing to do.
I am not a fan of hot weather or high humidity. I would have wilted before I made it to the barn.
ReplyDeleteLove the expression describing the humidity as "thick as grits"..... I understand completely!!
ReplyDeleteI live in South Jawja.....and I understand and nod my head vigorously at your description.
The impatiens are beautiful.....and wonderfully captured with your camera.
Inpatients, MIL's favorite flower. My daddy said, sweating is good for you, it washed the body from the inside out. I have always thought that N. Georgia statement was on the money.
ReplyDeleteFrom North CArolina...Good stuff
I love your sayings-they remind me of Foghorn Legorn (that is a complement):) It is too hot again and am waiting for the fall temps. Great picture once again
ReplyDeleteIt's a magical moment when the evening sun shines on the impatiens.
ReplyDeleteImpatients are such a beautiful plants for the shade. I started some seeds and they never were planted in where I had intended them to go as we need to do a bit of landscaping on the north side of the house. They are still in their original little starter pots but surprisingly they are still alive and blooming.
ReplyDeleteI might just try growing a few plants indoors.
I love that picture. I think they are tougher than they look.
JB
Once again--lovely!!
ReplyDelete