Fall Hydrangea

The hydrangea off the deck has turned fall colors. For some reason, I noticed it more this year. Maybe it's because I have to take my time climbing the deck stairs so I have time to look at it.

The leaves will start to turn now and fall off so all I'm left with in November are the branches. I really like the rusty red of the flowers. I don't remember them being this color last year, but, again, I might not have noticed.

I know blossom color on a hydrangea is controlled by the ph of the soil. I believe this one was blue when we bought it and for a couple of years after. Its real color is pink and there is one pink blossom still on the plant.

This is a bright smile when I leave the house and come home from work. It took some damage in March when it budded during our unseasonable warmth, but it recovered very nicely and is currently covered in the rusty red blossoms.

My dad's father had hydrangea bushes on his property that were 15-20 feet tall and covered with white blossoms the size of softballs. My cousins and I would yank them off the bush and throw them at each other, a snowball fight in July, if you will. They smelled so intoxicating, too. Some "grown up" would come outside and yell at us for "ruining" the plant but grandpa would follow with, "I don't care. Keep playing." I look at my small, in comparison, hydrangea and wonder if I can get it to produce blooms of that size. There's something joyous about being hit in the face with a softball size knot of flowers.

Beverage:  Dr Pepper

Deb

Fresh off the wire!

July sets 85-year Illinois record as coolest

CHAMPAIGN -- Last month was Illinois' coldest July since 1924.

Preliminary data gathered by researchers at the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign shows the average temperature last month was 70.4 degrees. That's 5.3 degrees below normal.

Climatologist Jim Angel says the previous record, set 85 years ago, was 71.5 degrees.
Angel says most parts of the state haven't had any days with temperatures in the 90s. Usually there are at least five days that hot.

Researchers say the cooldown resulted in lower energy demand and poor growing conditions for some farmers.

Meanwhile, statewide precipitation was 1.1 inches above normal in July, at 4.9 inches.

-- Associated Press

Well, duh. Although the above flowers in my mini prairie planting are the best they have looked in 3 years, I ran the furnace twice, count it, 2 times in July to take the chill and damp out of the house. There is a rumor that August will be hot, in about 2 weeks, just as kids go back to school.

I come from an age where air conditioning was advertised on the front of restaurants. Not every place had it and those that did had a small unit in the back that dripped water down the front, usually the right, corner. The air that came out was icy, icy cold, like being dropped onto an Arctic iceflow in your shorts and a tee shirt.

Generally, you didn't want to sit at the table adjacent to the AC unit. When it kicked on, there was a fine spray of water released in the front. Now days, we would be very up in arms over what germs would be in that spray. I remember my mother not being real thrilled with it either. In the winter, those units weren't removed because they were built into the wall. The back side was supposed to be covered to protect the unit from the elements, but many weren't. So, in the summer, when they ran, the water drip would be rusty as well as semi-stagnant from sitting inside the unit.

My prairie plants have enjoyed the weather and benefited from being mowed with the first mowing of the year. Rattlesnake master, purple coneflower, black-eyed Susan and shasta daisy make up the corner plot. Queen Anne's Lace, a European import, is also in the plot but it adds some elegance so I'll leave it, for now. I'd like to enlarge the plot and add some other prairie-style plants but I have no energy for digging. Where's a high-school student when you need one?

The only side effect of the damper and cooler than normal weather is an abundance of the rain-water mosquito. West Nile Virus has been in the area for 5 years now. That mosquito prefers hot conditions to breed and there has been nothing hot about July. I think I have killed 3 or 4 mosquitos inside but you go outside at dusk and they will carry you off. Budget cuts have forced communities to scale back their spraying. That's good for the butterflies as the spray got to some of them in spite of the switch to a less butterfly toxic mosquito killer.

I'm rather looking forward to some hot, steamy weather. I'm rather fond of four distinct seasons and July was sort of like late April misplaced. I still have not taken down the top on the Jeep yet as I want to take it down when there are more than 1.5 days in a row slated to be nice. This "potential for rain every other day" business is nuts. As my grandfather used to say in the 1960's, "Must be those danged Russians controlling our weather."

Beverage: I'm out! Time to get lunch anyway.

Deb

Could it really be 40 years?

Certainly I'm going to post some recollections on the history of today. 40 years ago, my family and I watched grainy black and white footage on an equally grainy black and white TV of one man gingerly working his way backwards down a ladder to set foot on the moon. I remember the night, and it was night when this happened, being clear and the moon was visible, although I think it was only a half or three-quarter moon. We watched, mesmerized by what we were seeing, and I remember dad got up to go outside and gaze up at the moon, almost unbelieving that we could get live television feed or that a human left this planet to go to another.

He got out the telescope and aimed it at the orb in the sky, hoping to see, for his own eyes, evidence that the television footage was real. But the small telescope we had, which could make the craters on the moon clear, could not show the small size of a single man on the face.

I remember Walter Cronkite's rapt gaze at his monitors. I remember my mother setting down her ironing to sit on the sofa. I remember lying on my stomach on the floor looking up at the TV. We had it placed on top of the upright piano (which my sister has, incidentally). It was a balmy July night. The day had been warm and sunny but the night was perfect. All you could hear, out in the country, was the sound of the cows and the pigs and the crickets and Neil Armstrong's voice, "Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed."

About 15 years ago, Carole, her dad and I went to the Cernan Space Center at Triton College. Eugene Cernan, the last astronaut to walk on the moon, was making an appearance to talk about his adventures. We were members of the Center which has an IMAX Screen. At the time, it was one of two in a 500 mile radius. The other was at the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago. Cernan had given Triton College money to build the screen and to fund an astronomy program. We saw a lot of movies there for a fraction of the cost of the MS&I. Plus, they had astronomers who gave monthy sky watching programs. I first saw the rings of Saturn via a January program then did.

Cernan talked about the rigors of space flight, how it felt to be headed to the moon, how it felt to know he would be the last man to walk on the surface and other items about space. He opened the floor up for questions and the first question was about colonizing Mars and the political ramifications of that. The room gave a collective sigh, not audible, but there nonetheless. The woman seemed almost to be baiting Cernan. But he gave a gracious, if long winded and obtuse answer.

Then he looked elsewhere for a question. Spotting Carole's hand in the air, he called on her. "What the ground like on the moon?" she asked. Cernan's face lit up and he spoke directly to her. "It's covered with this very fine gray dust," he said. He went on to talk about sinking into the dust and how they were concerned the dust would clog parts. Someone asked how the earth looked from the moon and he remarked how it appeared to be golf ball size and how hard it was to imagine that was home, where his wife, his kids, his dog and his pool were. It was clear he was profoundly affected by his experience. Carole was thrilled that she got to meet a real live astronaut.

So, I look up at the moon and remember doing the same thing 40 years ago. I remember the popcorn dad made. I remember the Pepsi we had, in glass bottles. I remember the crickets chirping and going to bed in awe of what we were able to accomplish as a country.

Beverage: English Breakfast

Deb