The Sights, Sounds and Smells of Summer at Our Little House

The toma­toes and pep­per plant (mid­dle) look good

 

The other morn­ing, I put on my new $2 flip-flops I bought for water­ing, turned on the gar­den hose and got more than water flowing.

When the water spurted out, that smell that accom­pa­nies hose water caused me to flash­back to my childhood.

The dis­tinct smell of that water, whether we were play­ing in it or I was help­ing my mother drench her vast flower and veg­etable gar­dens, is one of the true signs of summer.

Yesterday was the offi­cial first day of sum­mer, the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year. Sites on the Internet had been pos­ing the ques­tion: What makes it sum­mer for you?

Tomato that was eaten off at the base grew back

 

Hose water, gar­den­ing, fish­ing and boat­ing, swim­ming, those first juicy bites of home­grown toma­toes and water­melon (both with salt), BLTs, cook outs and good times with friends com­ing to Our Little House to visit, drive in movies and ice cream for me.

Dale and I have got­ten back into the rou­tine of tak­ing out the boat each Sunday morn­ing before it gets too hot. I also had the oppor­tu­nity to go out on a new friend’s pon­toon with her and some of her friends this week.

It was a fun girl’s day out as we grilled on the boat, enjoyed some fresh water­melon and got to know one another. I haven’t been swim­ming yet, though.

We’ve also had those first tasty toma­toes and a cou­ple of BLTs. A cou­ple of weeks ago, Dale brought home some waf­fle cones so we could treat our­selves to (small) ice cream cones a cou­ple of times a week.

I think there is a drive in some­where in this part of Arkansas. The only other one I know of is back in Kansas City, so we haven’t been to one in sev­eral years.

As for the gar­den­ing, I’m hav­ing very mixed results. We’ve been hav­ing a drought since around the first of May and my big­ger toma­toes are suf­fer­ing from Tomato Blossom End Rot, so we’ve har­vested noth­ing thus far other than our black cherry toma­toes (the toma­toes for the BLTs came from my aunt’s garden).

I had never seen this con­di­tion before, which makes the end of the tomato oppo­site the stem rot before it goes ripe. Evidently, it is caused by an early hot, dry sea­son. Many gar­den­ers around here are com­plain­ing about the disease.

I had been water­ing using my lit­tle gar­den can, but thought the gar­den hose might help future blos­soms actu­ally come on with­out rot­ting. We’ll see.

We did har­vest our first batch of jalapenos the other day, but we haven’t tested their hot­ness out yet.

The end of the cucum­bers 2012

 

As you can see in the pho­tos, no wor­ries about bit­ter cucum­bers any longer. Something – maybe the rats or squir­rels – has devoured all but one of the four plants as of last night (although we are still trap­ping mice and rats on the deck each night).

I’ve eased up on the angst over the gar­den though. There are so many peo­ple here who are good at it, we’re still get­ting plenty of bounty anyway.

Hail to sum­mer. It’s been a good one so far.

What are the signs of sum­mer for you?    

30 Responses to “The Sights, Sounds and Smells of Summer at Our Little House”

  1. Ashley Cooke says:

    Ah, your post reminds me of sum­mer in many points. Many peo­ple love the sum­mer sea­son and there are no bad rea­son to do so.

  2. Summer means I can work out­side on the water­front in lower Manhattan. I always pre­fer writ­ing out­side. I'm just sur­prised that it's almost the end of June and we haven't had con­sis­tently warm, sunny weather yet.

  3. Sunscreen. The smell of sun­screen makes me feel like sum­mer is here–that and the first sun­burn of the sea­son. Try as I might, I always miss a spot or two. This week I missed one swath of my shoul­ders and after an after­noon at the lake I'm toasted. Love the pictures

  4. I do love to mark the sea­sons — even if Texas' sea­sons seem lim­ited to sum­mer and not-summer. But it's nice to slow down a bit and go to more movies and eat more ice cream.

  5. Heather L. says:

    You stopped me at the "smell of water." That must be an Arkansas thing, because here in Washington our hose water doesn't smell.

    We've had two days in a row filled with sun­shine and a friend and I enjoyed appe­tiz­ers on a restau­rant deck over­look­ing Puget Sound tonight — that's when I know sum­mer is here.

    • Kerri says:

      It was the same smell in Kansas when I was a kid, Heather, some­thing brought on by the sun and heat warm­ing the hose, it's kind of a rub­bery chem­i­cal smell. Maybe you actu­ally need sun and heat, which you don't see that much of in Washington, to get that smell! ;) Sitting on a deck over­look­ing the Sound does sound like summer!

      • Heather L. says:

        I get it. The sun makes the water smell. No won­der it's a for­eign con­cept to me.

        All of you that are hav­ing heat waves are wel­come to come to Washington State. We're hav­ing T-storms today.

  6. Sheryl says:

    Right now I'm sit­ting out­side on my deck…despite the fact that it was a record-breaking 97 degrees today. I LOVE this. This is sum­mer. And the fact that it's 8:30 PM and still light out!!!

    • Kerri says:

      I love the longer days too, Sheryl. I remem­ber wait­ing for antic­i­pa­tion when I was a kid on the 4th of July for the night fire­works. Then it seemed it could never get dark fast enough!

  7. Lindsay says:

    Sorry to hear about your gar­den : ( At least there are farm­ers mar­kets, I miss those. With all of the agri­cul­ture around us here in south­ern Idaho you would think there would be more of them but we haven't found a good one. I miss the out­door mar­kets in Oregon.
    As for what makes sum­mer?
    Eating out­side, pop­si­cles, creek swim­ming, ham­mock swing­ing, camp­ing trips, sun tea and most def­i­nitely dri­ving with the top down (79 Dodge ram­charger and 87 vw cabri­o­let)
    It's sup­posed to be 97 here today. Looking for­ward to that cold creek later!

    • Kerri says:

      Hi, Lindsay! It's ok about the gar­den, that's what hap­pens some­times. I think it's the drought. Everyone here is fight­ing some­thing in their gar­dens. We caught the lit­tle squir­rel red-handed today as when we got home, the bug­ger had fin­ished off the cucum­ber plant. My aunt promises to keep us in cucum­bers and yes, there are the farmer's mar­kets. Oh, yes, cold creeks and pop­si­cles! :)

  8. Merr says:

    Days that still seem longer even though they start get­ting shorter and warmer weather that I truly love because it just seems more relax­ing to my body — no need to bun­dle up and hun­ker down in warm clothes!

  9. Jane Boursaw says:

    All good stuff! Well, except for the crit­ters devour­ing your gar­den goods. Good that you've sort of made peace with it.

    We have a drive-in about an hour away from us, and we try to get out there at least once a sum­mer. Good times.

    • Kerri says:

      I was really, really mad the first time the rat got the tomato plant, but what are you going to do? I'll have to get some­thing nat­ural that repels squir­rels now that I know what it is munch­ing. Aren't drive-ins the great­est? Love 'em.

  10. Drisana says:

    That's where all my sum­mer heat is:) Here where I am in Canada we are hav­ing flood­ing. We are in need of sun. My gar­den is grow­ing but now we are fear­ing rot over drought. Can we switch weather for a lit­tle while? LOL! Love your posts and one day when I get to sit at a com­puter I will be read­ing your archived posts too.

    • Kerri says:

      Hi, Drisana! Thanks, it's great hav­ing you here. Lots of good stuff in the archives, I hope you get time to make your way through. Yep, if we could trade some hot, dry weather for a lit­tle cool rainy stuff for a week or so, we would be good. Just heard the National Weather Service has declared we're in severe drought. Yikes!

  11. Irene says:

    What a lovely post~
    We're hav­ing a heat­wave in NY!

  12. For me, sum­mer is about the extra day­light. I love get­ting up "early" and NOT hav­ing it be dark. The toma­toes I planted from seed (inside the green­house, inside wall-o-water) are get­ting big, but so far no blooms, so no toma­toes. Still, we're har­vest­ing lots of leafy greens and have a cou­ple of yel­low squashes com­ing. I pol­li­nated them, but they aren't get­ting very big yet.

    • Kerri says:

      You have a later grow­ing sea­son though there in Colorado, no? I'm sure those toma­toes will pro­duce and when ours are done, you'll still be get­ting them. :)

  13. Rachel says:

    Hello from Salem, AR! I'm lov­ing your plants on the porch! I so enjoy your morn­ing tid bits on face­book too :)
    We NEED the rain so badly! Even though we water daily, city water is noth­ing like good rain water!
    Our squash was over­taken by squash bugs and some of our other plants are poop­ing out early too! Luckily we have got­ten a few toma­toes and have great look­ing bell pep­per plants. Also– we're blessed to live near the Amish who have a pro­duce stand that sup­plies us with lots of deli­cious organic pro­duce. And good con­ver­sa­tion!
    If you are ever near Salem on a Saturday morn­ing, stop by the Farmer's mar­ket! We will be sell­ing our jam and some baked goods this week­end :) Take care!

    • Kerri says:

      Good morn­ing, Rachel! You ARE so close! Do you sell every Saturday? We can't make it this week, but I do want to get over there! Yes, we do need the rain so badly. KY3 is report­ing this morn­ing good rains in SF, hope it finds it's way to all of us. Thanks for being a part of our LL com­mu­nity, it's great to have fel­low Arkansans on here too. :)

  14. Our sum­mer came early this year. I like to go in the pool once a day and take walks early in the morn­ing before it gets too hot. And we spend a lot of time at my par­ents' lake house.

    • Kerri says:

      I think sum­mer came early for most in the U.S. this year, Brette. Oh, yes, the early morn­ing walks (just get­ting ready for ours).

  15. Alexandra says:

    Summer hit New England sud­denly, with 90+ degree heat. We are strug­gling to adjust. I do more water­ing to keep the gar­den flow­ers from wilting.