July Is the Worst

I mean to write at least once a month, but July was a month to be endured, and there was no room on the edges for thinking new thoughts. We just had to put our heads down and tough it out. I really don't like  July. 

The only reason to have this month is that's when the tomatoes come in. I would be willing to wait until August for tomatoes if we could just rip July out of the calendar. 

When I retire, I want to be able to leave the mid-Atlantic in July. I want to go somewhere where there are beaches and ponds and lakes and I can just float in the water and sleep in the shade. 

This July was not excruciatingly hot. It was horribly soggy, and that made the heat hotter. It rained often, the air was a sponge filled with water all day long, and the nights did not get below the mid 70s.  At 6 AM the humidity was 99% and by the middle of the day it had dropped all the way to 94%. 

I change my clothes for the first time about two hours after I first put them on. The best way to avoid nasty rashes and fungal fires in all the places that rub and overlap is to strip down and take off every single dripping wet article of clothing, wait until you stop sweating, then put on another linen shirt, another set of underwear, a dry pair of shorts and a nice brand new pair of socks. These days I store all of my clothes on the first floor. Who wants to climb those stairs four times a day? I don't know how other people survive without multiple costume changes.

Anyway, we were working in a hot yoga studio, pulling onions and picking zinnias and loading and unloading truck after truck for the last week of June and every week of July, and I could only write farm notes for workers and customers. Could not think of anything but how to drink enough water to keep up with the sweating.

Moving on. So far August is DELICIOUS.