The debate the other evening with some neighbors was whether a dry summer or a wet summer was preferred. A silly debate because we have no control either way over the weather. We want our rain when we want it and our sunny days the same way.
But after a month of solid rain I am, at this moment in time, solidly on the side of a dry summer. Tomatoes are bursting their skins while still green. The gutters fell off the front and back of the main barn. The winter squash vines rotted away before setting fruit. The workshop has flooded four times. And I’ve lost count of the times the drive has had to be graded.
On the plus side I harvested yesterday, with the help of a friend, two and half pounds of beautiful and delectable chanterelle mushrooms from our woods. Last night I sautéed some of them in butter, added some brandy, heavy cream and parmesan cheese before spooning them over pork chops. That dinner took a bit of the sting out of living in a soggy world.
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Reading this week: Founding Gardeners: the revolutionary generation, nature and the shaping of the American nation by Andrea Wulf
