The heat is getting to me about now. We may have had a long and cool spring, but we have certainly made up for it since. I try not to grumble, and there are days when the heat bothers me less than others, but there have been few of those days lately. Strange, as I had thought that getting my hair cut would help at least a little bit.
(just walked out of the Salon to my car selfie)
But although my hair is no longer limp, I am no cooler. It is not even August yet and I have August lawn, and weeds growing in the flower beds because I could care less about going outside to weed them. There is only so much. that can be accomplished in the hour, or if I'm lucky two, before the heat chases me indoors. I may be a born and bred Texan, but you wouldn't know it.
At least the entire flower bed is green, even if some plants are tired. Others are fine. thriving in the heat. The limelight hydrangeas and the crape myrtles are lush, and the roses are blooming pretty regularly as well, including this petite beauty, just planted this spring. In fact, just looking at the hydrangeas makes me feel cooler, at least for a moment or two. Even Tikka, who usually loves lying in the grass is reluctant. She waits until she must go out, runs out the door, and runs right back in. At least we are agreed, my puppy-girl and I.
The blueberries are also doing well. My two blueberry bushes are still quite small, but they are still putting out berries, even if I only harvest a few small bites a day. There was one big flush of fruit early last week though, after a week of rainstorms, and I managed to restrain myself from eating the berries as I picked them long enough to save some up, and make some blueberry barbecue sauce. I was inspired by an article in Local Palate magazine, as well as a recipe in Saveur, a recipe that I used as only a very rough guide. I used Korean red chili flakes (gochugaru) because I have a lot on hand, and local honey instead of sugar, in completely different proportions. The resulting sauce is quite good and not as sweet as many barbecue sauces, which suits my palate. I think I could do something more interesting with the layering of heat however and next time, which may well be next summer, and I may try using some guajillo chilis. I think there is potential for a Mexican/Korean fusion thing as filtered through my own Texan/New York/Tennessee tastes.
I used the barbecue sauce on a chicken, which I roasted slowly outside on the grill. I ate part of the chicken with my neighbor's tomatoes, as he has more sun than I. I love my location at the end of the street, but if and when I move, one thing I want is the ability to grow some kind of vegetables, although at the moment I am the happy recipient of neighbor's and friend's excesses.
I had planned various indoor entertainments for the weekend, including catching Star Trek Beyond, but instead I started taking apart furniture and the weekend got a little out of hand with projects. Interesting how that happens sometimes.
I had been thinking about this project for some time. Although I was perfectly happy with the Brix units that George and I had used as dressers and nightstands for a long time, recently they seemed a bit to cold and sterile to me. And yet I was not ready to let them go completely. Perhaps they could be repurposed. As they are modular, they are also reconfigurable. In our original setup we had gray units and red units and one tall red/gray combination piece, all of different heights. I thought I wanted to make three units of the same height and move them. But first I had to figure out how to do it. I spent a good part of Friday taking the three smaller cabinets apart (I have one larger unit as well). Then I spent a good part of Saturday reassembling the pieces into three new units and moving them. The job remains incomplete. I can't move the larger unit by myself, but I should have some help with that later today.
So you would think that was enough for one weekend, wouldn't you? I would, normally. But apparently not this weekend. I reconfigured and moved furniture. I made blueberry barbecue sauce. I also made pickles, albeit simple pickles.
There were giant kohlrabi at the farmer's market, giant, 3 pound, kohlrabi. I bought one and decided to make pickles. I made two kinds. With half the kohlrabi, well perhaps slightly less than half, I made a simple vinegar pickle with a few Aji Amarillo peppers floating in the brine. Then I also made a quick kimchi-style pickle with the other half of the kohlrabi.
So far, both are lovely, although my refrigerator is filling up with kimchi and sauerkraut and pickles. Once again it seems I am an all or nothing kind of person, the kind of person who is either all-in, or standing back, waiting. Am I the only person who does this? Do you manage to balance out your periods of rest and repose with your periods of enthusiastic involvement? Or do you go through lulls and periods of excess? I know I am inclined toward excess. I tend to overdo, overindulge, over-whatever. Or I don't. At least, if I'm in I'm in with my whole heart, even if it is only pickles and reconfiguring furniture.
I no longer envy the more evenly paced, no longer wish to be different. It was almost as if I thought that if I could find perfect balance I would never feel pain or loss. Now I know that is not true. But I also know that the world needs people who live on an even keel, and people who don't, people who rock the boat, people of the quiet depths, of the intermediate waters, and of the explosive storms. Perhaps we each have a bit of all of these things hidden within us. Perhaps we feel them at different times in our lives. I don't live in the middle waters, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to find them, to bring the currents together to make something new. As always, I am reminded of the mouth of the amazon, the meeting of the waters, where you can see the melding of fresh and salt, of massive bodies of water meeting and churning, and eventually becoming one.