Those of us who can are spending as much time hiding in air conditioned spaces, parked in front of a fan, submerged in the water, or escaping the area altogether for cooler climes. Hitting 100°F with humidity is a condition that demands limited outdoor exertion. Schools which are still in session have been releasing the kids with half-days due to the temperatures, while by mid-morning the sidewalks have already become too hot for Rudi’s little paws.

Walking out into this morning’s air felt like getting hit in the face with a wet towel. The Urban Porch has become an afternoon blast furnace, the withering hanging plants requiring watering twice a day to revive them from wilted exhaustion. As I stand there quenching their thirst with a garden hose, the mosquitos relentlessly attack. These are the days of Muggy and Buggy.

This moisture-laden heatwave has produced a string of frustratingly Bad Hair Days, causing an unmanageable, hot, wooly mess that will not cooperate.

Since the grass was already getting high and we may (or may not) be in for another three or four days of rain upcoming, I decided to head out early today to mow the small area in front of the porch before the grass and weeds got too high and pushing the mower through it too difficult. It was only 85°F at 7:30am, but the air was already thick as I slathered on some rather ineffective homemade insect repellant and headed out.

I can’t help but think about people who have been working outdoors during this stretch of high temps alternated with rainstorms. The ones doing landscaping, construction, delivering mail and packages, farming – or really anything outside that requires movement and exertion. I am not taking for granted the privilege of relaxing in my retirement within a cooled house. Upon completion of the mowing and flourishing a bright, dripping wet “Tomato Face,” I made a beeline for the shower.

At this point, weeding and gardening around The Urban Porch has ceased and likely will not resume. Unless this weather seriously breaks, whatever grows will grow and whatever doesn’t make it is just how it’s going to be.

Overall I’m just not feeling it as far as any real cooking. Cooling summer foods this week have included cold spicy peanut Asian noodles, gazpacho, watermelon/feta/mint salad, tuna sandwiches, Caprese salad, guacamole and salty chips, accompanied by iced matcha tea most mornings and refreshing licorice spice tea (sun tea steeped on the blazing porch) poured over ice in the afternoon. And water. Lots of water.

Veering off track for just a second here to share a word on Japanese green matcha tea, which I was turned on to decades ago after partaking in conversation and a bowl of matcha with the percussionist Layne Redmond (1952-2013, frame drummer, recording artist, educator and author of When the Drummers Were Women). She shared her sources and recommended I buy it in bulk – back then it was actually affordable. It has become one of my go-to beverages and I often can’t help but think of her with gratitude while whisking the beautiful green powder. Over the years I have continued to purchase matcha a pound at a time. Stored in sealed containers in a dark cabinet, it tends to keep well without losing any of its taste or vibrancy.

My stash has neared depletion though, and it was finally time to replenish. Yikes, was I hit with some sticker shock (like that wet towel in the face) upon discovering the cost had more than tripled! The seller shared with me that the rising popularity of matcha – like all good things that have become trendy – has driven the demand (and thus the price) way up. On a smaller scale it feels similar to large numbers of people finding out where the secret swimming hole is, or the unique thrift shops, or moving to what were once idyllic and pristine rural and exurban localities. The word gets out, people start coming in throngs, overpopulating special places, depleting the resources and driving up the prices. At that point, like so many good things that often become popular, it becomes saturated, out of reach, even ruined. Muggy and buggy.

Despite the current furnace-like conditions, walking Rudi after dark has been rather comfortable. While the air has remained close and enveloping, after sunset the atmosphere has taken on the feel of a pleasant, sultry bath. The bluestone sidewalks have released the blistering heat of day. Last night hailed the June arrival of fireflies, fairy-dancing and flashing throughout the grass and perennial beds off The Urban Porch. My camera was unable to adequately capture this annual apparition, so I will share a similar photo I found, as we stood there, even amidst the most uncomfortable of days, enjoying the gift of twinkling lightning bug magic.

~*~