Hey! For an interesting change of pace, it’s not about climate change. I’m just plain ol’ whining about my weather.
I had to wear my winter coat yesterday on the 31st of May, while y’all were posting about your heat waves and beach trips, and I was a little chilly in the blustery wind. I said to my husband last evening, “I could totally commit to being HERE, if it weren’t so damned COLD.” I love the views, and the river, and my developing sense of community and belonging. I have a feeling that we’re on the cusp of something really fabulous and consistent with the radical history of the place. But, here it is, June 1, and we can’t transplant for two more weeks because of the risk of frost. And it turns out that our house is too cold to start the plants inside. Our six-week tomato plants are still only about 3/4 inch tall because we stop regularly running the wood stove in April. I sigh here, because the last fire was only two days ago, and I can still smell wood smoke around a lot of our neighbour’s yards.
On the plus side, the cold is damping down the black flies a bit. And at least we can all sleep at night without benefit of central air. And… um… loons! We have loons. And eagles. And smelt. And… um… it was warm long enough for the bees to get a good start and the plums are probably pollinated. And… um… We have no ticks. Or malaria. Or dengue fever. Or poisonous snakes. Or hurricanes (most of the time). But it would sure be nice to have a longer growing/camping season.