But It's A Dry Heat
It's hard to believe that just a few short weeks ago I was complaining about the fact that winter seemed like it was never going to end here in Northern Nevada, and that we were simply going to go roll from cold, wet spring into dry, crisp fall, skipping summer entirely. Even in mid-June, just one month ago, a person was still having to put on a coat to go out at night. It was just that kind of miserable, cold spring.
What a difference a month makes. Today the temperature topped out well over 100 degrees Fahrenheit, as it has every day this past week and as it looks like it's going to every day this coming week. Usually, here in the desert, nightfall brings relief from the heat as the dry air cannot hold warmth once the sun goes down. But lately even nighttime brings little relief with only a slight moderation in temperature. And just to add insult to injury, my air conditioner just conked out.
I spent this morning at the farm. These days we're concluding work by 11:30, as the heat is just too intense after that. I'm a little bit disappointed in the year we're having out there. While some crops are doing at least tolerably well, most of my favorites like the raspberries, blueberries, apples, and all of the stone fruit like peaches, apricots and cherries have essentially failed us this year. After an hour spent harvesting garlic (gotta keep those vampires at bay) Ray and I dug out a row of potatoes. While most of the specimens we were able to unearth appeared healthy, they were almost all quite small. The row that should have yielded two large buckets full of spuds gave us less than one bucket. This is not particularly unusual or surprising--Nevada is a hard place to make anything grow besides sagebrush. Perhaps I was spoiled by last year, which was quite good all around. Still, I can't help but feel a little disappointed. Ray and Virginia hold out hope for the squash and melons, and Virginia seems to think that the raspberries may give us something yet. But I remain dubious. My only real hope at this point is that the grapes (my pride and joy) come through. Anything else is gravy.
What a difference a month makes. Today the temperature topped out well over 100 degrees Fahrenheit, as it has every day this past week and as it looks like it's going to every day this coming week. Usually, here in the desert, nightfall brings relief from the heat as the dry air cannot hold warmth once the sun goes down. But lately even nighttime brings little relief with only a slight moderation in temperature. And just to add insult to injury, my air conditioner just conked out.
I spent this morning at the farm. These days we're concluding work by 11:30, as the heat is just too intense after that. I'm a little bit disappointed in the year we're having out there. While some crops are doing at least tolerably well, most of my favorites like the raspberries, blueberries, apples, and all of the stone fruit like peaches, apricots and cherries have essentially failed us this year. After an hour spent harvesting garlic (gotta keep those vampires at bay) Ray and I dug out a row of potatoes. While most of the specimens we were able to unearth appeared healthy, they were almost all quite small. The row that should have yielded two large buckets full of spuds gave us less than one bucket. This is not particularly unusual or surprising--Nevada is a hard place to make anything grow besides sagebrush. Perhaps I was spoiled by last year, which was quite good all around. Still, I can't help but feel a little disappointed. Ray and Virginia hold out hope for the squash and melons, and Virginia seems to think that the raspberries may give us something yet. But I remain dubious. My only real hope at this point is that the grapes (my pride and joy) come through. Anything else is gravy.
2 Comments:
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I deleted your comment, "anonymous"; just e-mail me with questions like that. This blog is my gift to the world, and the world doesn't care about my petty heating and cooling issues.
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