Remember that warm, super gorgeous weekend a month ago? The one where I planted my tomatoes and some other plants outside and then it FROZE the next weekend? Yeah. Well summer weather is here, for real this time.
Who wants to go to Seaside?
Weather it's gonna stay that way is another story. Freezing is pretty much out of the question now, but I do live in the paradise known as Portland, Oregon... there's a good chance of rain and a bit of a temperature drop.
We had record highs yesterday, in the mid to upper 90s. Portland's a funny town, with rivers and valleys and hills and microclimates galore. Guess how hot it can get on an asphalt covered ground near a racetrack? That's right. 101 degrees. That's what my fiance's cousin's truck's temperature registered at just before what felt like the high point of the day. We went down to PIR (before this weekend, I didn't know what PIR was, or that it existed) to watch the cousin and uncle team race. The first chapter in my rally car education. Travis Hanson and his dad, Terry Hanson, have been racing for several years.
Travis is on the left of this picture from 2003. (I need to get some more pictures up!!!)
The prologue was a few weeks ago, when I found out that rally car events and Nascar-esque races have massive differences. Rally car events seem to always have a driver and codriver. The codriver is more of a navigator. There's some book that they get, and honestly I thought at first glance it was someone's homework. It looked like trigonometry written in code. In reality, it's a shorthand description of the raceway. Instead of driving 'round and 'round in an oval, they have less predictable terrain. Yesterday, they drove down the tarmac, flipped around and came back, and flipped a sharp left and drove down what sounded like gravel. Then they drove around to the next part, a dirt racetrack with plenty of curves and dips and treachery. They had watered down that dirt bit, but by the late afternoon it was mostly dry again, and the air around it had a alien landscape feel, dust in the air, strange lights. Covered in salt sweat and breathing in this foreign air, I was in world unlike any I was used to.
Saturday, they move on to Hillsboro and Vernonia. If you're in the neighborhood, cheer for car 523, an electric blue subaru.
Certain conditions bring you back to the past. I am younger, more awkward. We are camping at a lake. Is it trip with my mom's single parents group? I think so, but my brain is foggy. No, not foggy, because that implies cooler weather. My thoughts try to focus, but all I can see is the haze of heat off of sand, off the water, off of scattered cars and nylon tents. I've been playing, running, forgetting to drink. My mom was worried about heat stroke. She gave me water, fed me cheetos.
I saw a large tawny deer that trip. He swam across the lake. I ran to try to meet him on the other side, thinking that since he let me see him swim, he must want to talk to me. I don't know what I thought he would say. Maybe, "I saw you admiring my huge rack. Please tell the hunters to leave me alone please." Maybe it was the heatstroke, or my childhood viewing of Bambi and Snow White talking.
The plants seem to be tolerating the weather. The azalea looks a bit wilty this morning. It bloomed a few weeks ago, a riot of hot pink. Hot pink? Something I wouldn't have chosen, but it's beautiful. It's hidden, a surprise, and a bit naughty like a Brazilian bikini wax. That's right. I'm comparing a plant to a painful procedure. The more time I spend with these plants, the more they develop stories. It's not my fault that the Azalea is communicating lurid stories of wild beach parties to me. Go talk to the Azalea yourself and see!
Lurid! Carefree! Azaleas!
The bell like bulbs in the front yard were looking wilty the day before yesterday. They seem to have survived, but we'll see. I gave everyone a preemptive watering this mid morning (I know, but I didn't get up any earlier), and will give everyone a more generous watering tonight.
Did I tell you I have a few corn who came up? I'm so excited. I also put some squash starts in the ground. The ones I had started before a)froze and b)most of the remaining leaves got eaten by slugs. A couple days ago, I put a slug trap out (made with an old sour cream container with windows cut out, and some Joose that my brother's band's base player left. Trust me on this. If any member of a band that practices at your house leaves behind a Joose, it's much better used as slug bait than as a thirst queancher or drunk-maker. It yielded two good sized slugs yesterday, with no new ones today. It also netted a few dozen ants. Gross. After I planted the squash, I surrounded them with crumbled egg shells. I really recommend the egg shell treatment if you have slug problems.
This post is way long enough, and it's time to get ready for the latest PDX Crafty Vixen meetups.
I'm growing these guys:
Finally, here are a whole plethora of tips, complements of yougrowgirl.com <3!!!