Flies, Fires, and Feasting Birds

What is it with the flies? They pop wheelies in my hair and spin kitties on my eyelids. They buzz at my ears and collide with my cheeks. They sometimes bite at my arms and legs and the back of my neck.

Indoors I flail away with a fly swatter at any that hold still within reach of my extended arm, and still others always await. I slap at them when no weapon is within reach and it's always a mixed blessing if my aim is good and I'm quick. I say "ha" when I get extra lucky and kill two at once. I even say "ha" sometimes when I kill only one with an easy dispatching thump on the tabletop.

We do not have children who leave doors ajar. If there were holes in our screens, the flies would not find them since the windows stay closed while the air conditioner drones along. I can only conclude that they wait around the front or back door and rush to enter whenever the door opens. Stupid flies. No. Smart flies--really annoying smart flies.

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We had rain! True, it was only two-tenths of an inch here, but it was wet and welcome and wonderful. I'm praying for more.

Lowell said they had a little over an inch--only three miles northwest of here. Good for them.

The showers are firing along a cold front sagging across Kansas. Some cold front. Predicted highs through mid-week are still right around 100.

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Our favorite indecisive customer outdid herself at market today. She paid for bacon with a check, but it was made out to the wrong name. (A sign at the front of the booth clearly says who checks should be written to.) I saw it in time, and asked if she would change it. Just then someone came up and lavishly praised the quality of the ham steaks they had purchased earlier, so she asked to buy a package of those as well and wrote a new check for the increased amount, with the right name this time.

Later she came back and said she would like to exchange the ham steak for something in smaller packages of equal value. Of course, there was nothing of exactly equal value, so I gave her the second check back and she wrote me a third one for the pork chops she was buying instead plus the bacon.

"Oh, dear Barbara," was Shane's tired response when I reported to him later what happened after he left market this morning.

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Shane got a chance today again to talk on the live radio broadcast from the market, and he responded to a question from Ron, the market board chairman and broadcast "moderator" to explain what naturally raised pork is. Shane finished by saying impulsively "Happy animals make good meat."

Afterward Ron, whose wife has training in marketing, told Shane he thinks that would make a wonderful advertising tagline: "Happy animals make good meat." Shane liked the idea.

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Janis Bair's old pasta booth was festooned today with a black fringe banner tied high across the back, and two bouquets of white, yellow, and black helium balloons. On a table in the booth was an enlarged copy of her obituary, and a small collection of pictures of her at the market, and her helping represent the market at a past Taste of Home event. Janis died of cancer on June 26.

I knew her first as the Herb Lady. Later she added Pappardelles pasta to her offerings. Besides fresh herbs and flavored vinegars, from her I purchased pasta I had never "met" before--extremely high quality products of many shapes and flavors. Much of the pasta had herbs and other flavorings embedded in the dough, and all of it was toothsome and substantive.

When my term on the market board ended, Janis was elected, and I handed over the secretarial records to her. She worked tirelessly on behalf of the market, and memorials to the market were suggested for those who wished to honor her memory. Jan was perpetually cheerful and as friendly and reassuring as you would expect a retired teacher and school administrator and La Leche League leader to be.

Random Observation: Janis' name had a novel spelling for both her given and middle name: Janis Lin. Her husband, on the other hand, whose middle name was a homophone to Jan's, was spelled traditionally in every respect: John Lynn Bair. Jan's dad's middle name was Derrill, so the novel spelling tradition has apparently been in place for several generations.

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A man I did not recognize came to talk at market today. "So you're Miriam," he began.

"Yes. And your name?" I answered.

"You knew me as Harry Elvon."

Ah yes. The middle name was used to distinguish him from his father, who had the same first name. I had no idea he lived here. He grew up here and then married and moved to Minnesota. I hadn't seen him for many decades. He was several grades ahead of me in school.

I remember one mean trick some of his friends played on him on the school bus, which I was an accomplice to. Boys and girls never sat in the same seat on the bus. One morning, however, as we approached his home, someone suggested that I sit on the floor in front of the seat I already occupied, and they piled coats on top of me. No one else was sitting in that seat, so Harry Elvon sat in that vacant place. At the ensuing outburst of laughter, he caught on, grabbed and flung aside the coats, and in one motion fled to another seat. I wasn't really proud of what happened. He'd never done anything to deserve a mean trick, as far as I knew.

I didn't apologize today, but I thought about it.

We now have a common interest in Mannatech products.

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As of today, Shane and Dorcas know the gender of their unborn child. Let's just say that the Iwashige family gender tradition looks secure for the moment.

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We took almost three tubs of lettuce to market today--nearly all of it in the category of lettuces called by a variety of names--French Batavian, French Crisp, or Summer Crisp. The lettuce went like hotcakes. To most customers I said something like this: "We had a salad this week from this lettuce, and it was very good. Lettuce can get bitter in hot weather, however, and I hope what you're getting is alright."

The most beautiful heads came from Clare's garden. Grant gave me permission to harvest all of it.

I'm sold on growing these kinds for the latest crops, although they are excellent early crops as well. We planted Magenta (an improved Sierra) and Nevada. Magenta is red-tinged, and Nevada is green. Jericho, a green Romaine, is also a good durable lettuce in hot weather. I think all of these are available from Johnny's Selected Seeds.

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I thought I just might perish in the process of putting the meat back in the freezer in the shed after market. It was terribly hot in there, and the ice chests were heavy, and my blood sugar was low from not eating, and I was barely functioning. Shane and Dorcas had left market early and Hiromi had stayed in town to go to work early in the afternoon, so I was alone with the unloading project.

Finally I had unloaded everything that would have died with me in the heat, and I could stay inside. Oh the bliss of a sandwich on Yolanda's fresh home-baked bread, with thin-sliced ham and sweet onions and fresh tomatoes and cucumbers--almost worth waiting till 1:45 to eat.

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Kansas Youth Chorus begins their summer tour this week. They'll be gone over two weekends. I overheard Shane tell someone today that they will be going to the Kitchener-Waterloo, Ontario area, and presumably many places between here and there--in prisons and in churches. Shane has helped plan the trip and will be singing. Dorcas is going along.

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The Beachy side of my family is having a reunion in Kalona, IA next weekend. I thought I might go with my parents, but I don't think Hiromi would be able to manage market alone--with Shane and Dorcas gone too. I'm not sure what we'll decide.

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My Uncle Earl is not well. His caregiving daughter Sylvia died last year, and her husband took over much of the caregiving. In his 90s, widowed, and feeble, he would no doubt welcome heaven as an alternative to prolonged life here.

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My sister Linda had a really freaky fiery trial today. Something in her hamper must have spontaneously combusted and filled the bedroom with smoke. Davy, next door, discovered where the smoke was coming from after Linda had called on him to come over. He grabbed the hamper and carried it outside. Only part of the hamper and some of its contents were burned. Linda remembers that she wiped up some cooking oil drips some time with a rag, which might have ended up in the hamper. That doesn't seem like a very logical explanation as a source for the resulting smoldering, but nothing else makes any sense either. Wiping up the drips happened about a week ago.

On most days of the week she is not home early in the afternoon, but today she did not go to work, and was there to smell the smoke and investigate before a fire got out of hand. The fingerprints of the Lord's protection and mercy are visible all over this event.

This reminds me of the fire in Marian and Rosa's house a number of years ago. Fire broke out in several places in the house at nearly the same time, with no clear cause ever established. More damage resulted from that fire, but the house was repairable, and no one was hurt.

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Hiromi is really annoyed with the birds that are pecking at every ripe tomato in the garden. He thinks it's Orioles. I think he's right. He assigned me a research project for today: Find out what to do to prevent bird damage on tomatoes. I had already thought of most of the ideas I found online, but we'll have to talk about which ones to pursue. I think one easy thing to try is to put out water for the birds near the garden. In times of drought, they seem to use juicy fruits as a moisture source. Does anyone have other ideas?