Three-shower garden days
Summer officially came in last Thursday with 95-degree days and my anxious eyes on the weather radar, hoping one of those red or yellow or even green blobs would veer over Gas Valley and bless my parched garden. “Two-tenths of an inch,” Honey hollered, reporting from the rain gauge after one heavy but all-too-brief downpour. These are three-shower days for me, “shower” in the sense of an overhead spray of water from our plumbing, washing off prodigious garden dirt and sweat. I turn the water temp down to lukewarm, and sometimes to cold at the end to close those pores, and ...