Saturday, August 13, 2011

The Dog Days.

Lover's Leap, VA
School has started back here in Alleghany Co. and ARay has been back teaching down the mountain in Surry Co. for about a week now.  Every day, I check the temperature at First Citizens on Main Street (for some reason it always reads a few degrees cooler than on the other side of the street at FarmCredit) and it's been steadily declining for a couple of weeks now.  Just a few days ago, I was remarking to Aaron Ray that the weather has been just perfect lately: warm, dry, sunny...and he abruptly burst my happy summertime bubble and said, "Yep.  The Dog Days are over."

They're over?  Already?

This city girl from the flatlands loves her some hot, humid sticky summer days where you can hardly hear yourself think for the cicadas buzzing day and night; where you live in a house of hot summer lovers (aka yankees) and the air conditioning (around here they call it "air condition") doesn't get turned on until it's 85 or 90 degrees outside, and fall shows its face around early October.  It never once got to 90 degrees in Sparta this summer and I think our highest temp. was a balmy 86 that had everyone sweltering.  Ever since Aaron Ray and I talked about the end of summer approaching, I've been coming up with all kinds of outside activities, trying to savor these last summery days and searching hard for evidence that fall is coming soon.  I'll admit, with every day I drive by a grove of wild apple trees and see them more red-tinged instead of green, or see a huge pumpkin patch full of pretty size-able pumpkins, I get a twinge of guilt for being excited about fall.  I'm just not sure if I'm ready to accept in my heart just yet, that truly, the Dog Days are over.

Here, take a look at summer in the mountains through my eyes (or my phone's, as the case may be):

We attempted a compost pile this summer.  As it turns out, George and Bella will run through the invisible fence to finish off the watermelon rinds and zucchini ends.
I can't ever get both of these dogs to look at me at once.
Left side of the road - driving through the clouds.
Right side of the road - gorgeous sunny morning.  Aaron Ray keeps trying to explain to me that each mountain has its own weather, but every time I see it, I'm surprised all over again.
Some of our clients are extremely artistic - this is a mass removal sketch that got sent with a patient up for surgery last week that proved to be very useful.
This is what country-folk do with super-huge zucchini.  Someone gifted me with four big zucchini, and now I have eight loaves of zucchini bread in the freezer.
This is how country chickens lay eggs - one is the size of a goose egg, the other is the size of a robin's.  I felt a smidgen of pain for that poor chicken.

Aaron Ray asked me to patch some of his shirts for I pulled out my sewing kit and found these mixed in with the needles and thread:
I have only myself to blame.
A gift from a client after stopping to examine her kitten on my way home.  Now I have to figure out how to can home-made spaghetti sauce.
When I die, I want to be buried in the shadow of the mountains at sunset.  I can't imagine a more peaceful thing.  I wonder if this hill would be as beautiful if the gravestones weren't there?

1 comment:

  1. It is so beautiful Michelle, I'm so glad you are happy there. We love where we are too, with wild life so close. Take care.