| ||||||||||
 
Dr. Ronald P. Rogers CHIROPRACTOR Support for your body's natural healing capabilities 270-384-5554 Click here for details 
  
Columbia Gas Dept. GAS LEAK or GAS SMELL Contact Numbers 24 hrs/ 365 days 270-384-2006 or 9-1-1 Call before you dig 
Visit ColumbiaMagazine's Directory of Churches Addresses, times, phone numbers and more for churches in Adair County Find Great Stuff in ColumbiaMagazine's Classified Ads Antiques, Help Wanted, Autos, Real Estate, Legal Notices, More... 
|
The Whitehurst Diaries: The Passing of July 
"July in south-central Kentucky is all about heat and intense humidity. In the first summers here we learned to garden early in the morning, then to retreat inside, close the windows, draw the curtains, turn on fans or A/C. To step outside is to feel that one has been swathed and smothered in a hot steaming blanket." - SHARON WHITEHURSTClick on headline for complete diary entry and a larger at-long-last photo of Willis the Cat (left) By Sharon Whitehurst I Could Do Without July High summer has never been a favorite time. I have lived in three quite distinct areas in terms of climate--in all three, July weather is too hot. The greater part of my life was spent in Vermont's Champlain Valley, where the Green Mountains rim the eastern horizon, while the dark and rugged thrust of the Adirondack range looms on the New York side of the lake. June--early summer there--brought pleasantly warm days; in my girlhood, June meant freedom from school, hours to roam in the burgeoning green meadows and woods of my Grandpa Mac's farm. My sisters and I rode our bikes with the neighbor girls--also three sisters. If we got too warm, we ditched the bikes, flopped down in the grass, faces turned up to the endless blue of the sky. Our mothers mixed endless pitchers of kool aid--sugary sweet, garishly colored in faux-fruit flavors. July segued in with long sultry days--nights too heavy with trapped heat and humidity for sleep. Pedaling along the back roads or hiking up the pasture left one limp, head throbbing, out of sorts. Yet, as children, so little was expected of us. We were free to spread a blanket in the shade of the silver maple and retreat there with a glass of lemonade and a library book. Grandpa Mac's farmhouse next door offered a relatively cool living room and the refuge of his old rocking chair by the radio. Adulthood, and a family of my own, brought a reality check: summer was no longer a time to play or lounge about trying to beat the heat. July meant garden rows to weed, produce to be harvested, crawling along the ranks of green beans while sweat prickled down my back. July ushered in hours of canning--steam belching from kettles, heat leaching from the crowded kitchen, seeping into rooms with curtains drawn against the scorching sun. Before 'retiring' to Kentucky in 2010, we spent 12 years in Wyoming. July in Wyoming is hot and dusty, with heat that is unrelieved by shade trees. Afternoon temperatures soar into three digits--Fahrenheit. The sun blazes down, brassy, relentless. Each afternoon rough wind skirls down from the mountains, picking up grit and sand as it scours across the high arid plains. Grasshoppers bounce in the coarse browned grass. Summer twilight lingers in Wyoming; sunsets are tinged with the smoke of distant forest fires. The saving grace of July in Wyoming is the usual drop in night time temperatures. As darkness deepens, cooler air flows down from the mountains. By the wee hours the quilt folded at the foot of the bed is welcomed. Jim rose at daybreak to work before the sun rose to searing heights. I wore a sweatshirt while sitting on the porch to sip my morning mug of hot tea or coffee. Relief from July heat was to be found camping on weekends in the mountains where a heavy sleeping bag was needed to withstand temperatures that could plummet to nearly freezing by midnight. July in south-central Kentucky is all about heat and intense humidity. In the first summers here we learned to garden early in the morning, then to retreat inside, close the windows, draw the curtains, turn on fans or A/C. To step outside is to feel that one has been swathed and smothered in a hot steaming blanket. July this year has been about rain--drenching rain, pounding rain, so much rain that the ground does not dry out before another deluge moves in. The vegetable garden has succumbed to weeds and blight. Seedlings languish in a clutter of containers on the side porch. The perennial beds I planned in April are on hold; bags of peat moss, composted manure, and bark mulch still lumpishly repose on the porch of Jim's workshop. I water the seedlings, pinch them back, plant them on into larger pots. Willis the Cat lurks helpfully, stepping daintily through trays of lavender and foxglove, poking his whiskered face into my bucket of soil mix. He ventures out into the rain while I snip lank foliage, rummage for more pots; then he returns to the porch, shaking the wet from his tweedy fur, contorting himself comfortably into a cardboard flat meant to corral the lavender seedlings. Relentlessly, the rain continues. A 24 hour span without showers becomes a novelty. I need my wellies to walk down the path into the woods to the spot where I dump cat litter. A towel used once remains damp on the towel bar; I round up laundry daily, unwilling to leave towels and socks to develop a sour musty odor. I have used the electric dryer more often in July than in January! Last week I discovered a slight film of mold creeping along the crevices of furniture; shoes dragged from the back of the closet have a soft 'bloom' that must be wiped away with white vinegar. Jim works doggedly at the renovation of the lower farmhouse, returning every few hours with his shirt plastered to his chest and back. I paint a wall or two, then sag with exhaustion, hot and cranky. We revive ourselves with iced tea, lemonade clinking with ice, fruit smoothies. July, 2015, is over. August arrives with the whispered turning of a calendar page. It is still hot in August. August is also a month of transition, weather changes that are at first subtle, then more noticeable as the earth turns toward autumn. There are cool mornings, afternoons when we can open the windows to a refreshing breeze. I can deal with August, the month of waning summer. July--I could do without July! - Sharon This story was posted on 2015-08-01 07:46:06
Printable: this page is now automatically formatted for printing.
Have comments or corrections for this story? Use our contact form and let us know. More articles from topic News:
Billy Joe Fudge: Beware changing speed limits TN 111 Darrell Overstreet: Great job, LWC Plant operations Gov. Beshear appoints Stella W. Beard, Dunnville, KY to Council Westlake Regional Hospital Auxiliary News - 20 Jul 2015 meeting Taylor County to get 20 news jobs at INFAC First Bridge in Stephens Administration goes to District 5 Boyd Co. woman convicted of defrauding Social Security Bloomington Church men's prayer breakfast, August 1, 2015 The Gospel Sounds at Hadley Church 2 Aug 2015 Eunice Church of God bake sale Sat 1 Aug 2015 View even more articles in topic News |
 
115 Jamestown St. Columbia, KY. 270-384-2496 
  
   
 Provided by the Adair Co Fiscal Court and the Adair Co. Emergency Mgt. Agency 
|
||||||||
|
| ||||||||||
|
Quick Links to Popular Features
Looking for a story or picture? Try our Photo Archive or our Stories Archive for all the information that's appeared on ColumbiaMagazine.com. | ||||||||||
|
Contact us: Columbia Magazine and columbiamagazine.com are published by Linda Waggener and Pen Waggener, PO Box 906, Columbia, KY 42728. Please use our contact page, or send questions about technical issues with this site to webmaster@columbiamagazine.com. All logos and trademarks used on this site are property of their respective owners. All comments remain the property and responsibility of their posters, all articles and photos remain the property of their creators, and all the rest is copyright 1995-Present by Columbia Magazine. Privacy policy: use of this site requires no sharing of information. Voluntarily shared information may be published and made available to the public on this site and/or stored electronically. Anonymous submissions will be subject to additional verification. Cookies are not required to use our site. However, if you have cookies enabled in your web browser, some of our advertisers may use cookies for interest-based advertising across multiple domains. For more information about third-party advertising, visit the NAI web privacy site.
| ||||||||||
