August: Broward County

August 23, 2015September 4, 2015 / Kevin / 28 Comments

I went to the theater last night, a very small venue hosting a show of eight short vignettes. By the end of the fourth one, it was clear that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

The air conditioner had stopped working — and in zone 10, that can be an issue.

At intermission, the small audience stepped outside into the 90-degree, steamy south Florida night air to cool off — and a sort of camaraderie blossomed among the theatergoers. We were all sweaty soldiers determined to see the end of the play, despite the sauna-like conditions inside.

That’s when I overheard one female audience member say to her friend, “It’s because it’s August. It’s like the worst month.”

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Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot

August 29, 2014September 3, 2014 / Kevin / 38 Comments

What’s wrong with me? In a few days, it will be Labor Day, the unofficial end of summer, and my inner New York clock is telling me that I should be able to smell the first hints of an approaching autumn. Here in south Florida, however, summer is still the name of the game.

As I realize how much time has passed since my last post, I am aware of how frustrated and edgy I’m feeling. It has been an incredibly long time since I truly gardened.

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Breaking Up With August Is Hard To Do

August 29, 2012September 2, 2012 / Kevin / 38 Comments

Hi, August. It’s me.

Listen, I’m not going to beat around the bush on this one. I’m just going to dive in and let you know . . .

It’s over between us. I know I waited until the end of your days to tell you this, but I was really hoping you and I could have worked things out – maybe come to some sort of agreement on the nature of our relationship. That seems to be out of the question now.

Each year, I hope to look forward to your arrival, but you are very skilled at trying my patience – and as quickly as my expectations rise, you find every opportunity to walk all over them.

Take my impatiens. Please. When I first saw that they weren’t thriving, that their stems were barren of leaves, I blamed myself (not enough water). Then I blamed the slugs (they had to be munching all night). And then I learned about the fungus. Maybe you didn’t create the fungus, but your heat, humidity, and rain games certainly didn’t help.