August

     August was an unpleasant month for me throughout my childhood. As I've mentioned, I was a very shy child. Late August always meant returning to school, and returning to school meant a month of morning stomachaches. I didn't have a problem with doing schoolwork or learning, but meeting new people was hard. In addition, we moved around a lot. I attended seven schools before I turned eighteen – not an outrageous number, but definitely something that didn't help the matter.

     Leading up to the start of school was the never-ending stream of back-to-school advertising, all of which reminded me of my impending doom. To this day I have to suppress a fleeting moment of panic when I hear a back-to-school commercial. It only takes a moment to remind myself of that I'm not the kid I was and that I only go new places if I choose to, but it sort of amazes me that the feeling persists after twenty years.

     As a gardener, I both love and hate August. There's produce coming in quickly, and fruits and vegetables at the market are also cheap, so there's lots of things that need to be picked or frozen or stored. This week alone I froze ten pounds of peaches, made a gallon of applesauce and a gallon of summer squash chowder, and dried a few pounds of tomatoes.

     A little part of me is ready for everything to quit growing. I guess that's a good thing - when fall arrives, I'll be grateful that the lawn and "volunteer" (i.e. no one planted them and no one wants them there) shrubs aren't getting bigger, and I may finally win a battle, if not the war, against the weeds. Also, it will be nice to do yard work in 20 C days instead of 30 C days.*

*I make an effort never to complain about the weather. First, what is it going to help? Second, I moved north to have seasons and I still love them. But that doesn't mean I can't love some weather more than other weather.