By Alberte Villeneuve-Sinclair
TrueNorthPerspective
Alberte Villeneuve-Sinclair is the author of "The Neglected Garden/Le jardin négligé" and "Une prière pour Hélène". Her website is www.albertevilleneuve.ca.
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| Alberte's grandchildren are Lea (left) and Logan. |
Friends had said, "In the cold of winter, you will appreciate the hot summer days of 2005". They were wrong! I still remember it as one of the hottest summers ever and it didn’t feel any better on the cold and windy, -27C day of January 2006. Mind you, I had always enjoyed summer no matter how hot! I could cope ... but having officially become a 55+ retiree, my body’s coping mechanisms are not as efficient as they used to be. Let me give you an overview of that memorable summer.
Summer started early in May. Ottawa seasons don’t respect official starts. I remember because my grandchildren contracted chickenpox in May. Logan, in particular, was covered from head to toe, the heat making him itchy and miserable.
No complaints from me back then ... My petunias, cosmos, cleome, Shasta daisies, Portulaca, Alyssum, phlox and other beauties were planted before the long weekend of May which is unusual for this careful gardener who doesn’t trust frosts. Flower pots were filled with long spikes, fuschia-colored geraniums, white Lobellia, ivy and assorted greenery. Lily of the Valley was added to my perennial geranium and mint flowerbed, close to Brian’s inuksuk. The vegetable garden would be next but first, I cleaned the garage. It was dustier than ever, maybe because we hadn’t had enough rain. Everything was dusty!
And so, the garden was planted early. In years past, I wore my gardening duck boots, Tilley hat, windbreaker and I would trudge back to the house with a thick layer of mud caked on the soles of my duckies, in serious need of a steeped tea. Not so in 2005! Barefoot in old running shoes, I wore a straw hat, shorts, a sleeveless top ... and lots of sunscreen. Light soil swirled in dusty clouds around me as I hoed and raked soil and deposited precious seeds in neat rows or circular mounds. When all was done, I dragged out the water sprinkler, giving the garden a good soak, thinking there was certainly not enough moisture for germination. I then headed for the house for cold lemonade and a shower.
June! Seeds germinated, producing strong stalks thanks to almost 30mm of rain in mid-June and watering every other day after that. The lush lawn needed mowing every week. The humidex climbed. Little Lea couldn’t understand why we were eating lunch indoors instead of on the porch. After all, Grandma had a brand new patio set! Simple! It was too hot by noon. Lunch in the air-conditioned dining-room was better. We would make one concession ... sitting on the back steps to enjoy popsicles or an ice cream cone. We followed the swallows’ intensive housekeeping, raising families in the 18-apartment birdhouse overlooking the garden. Lea’s frosty treat would melt before she could even finish it. Sometimes we stood up, creating a raucous to shoo away a pesky, egg-snatching squirrel. Unscrupulous critter!
Soon, the ten-foot ditch behind the property dried up, leaving birds and beasts thirsty. The hummingbird feeder, by the dining-room window, was always empty by the end of the week. Clients, more numerous than usual, were obviously very thirsty. The minuscule birds often fought, buzzing each other frantically in order to claim territorial rights to the precious nectar. Meanwhile, it didn’t take long for the weeds to grow. A first weeding was called for and for the first time, I conducted an experiment that saved my garden from overexposure to heat and wind. After the first weeding, I spread shredded office paper between the rows of growing plants. This would keep the top soil from blowing away, retain moisture, provide some shade and discourage further growth of weeds. It was a godsend!
So was the total absence of groundhogs. For as long as I can remember, I had battled the ill-mannered beasts laying claim to my fresh produce year after year. They would shine by their absence in 2005 and I celebrated with gorgeous salads. One more thing I didn’t have to worry about was mosquitoes; they couldn’t stand the heat and it was just as well.
At the end of June, I joined Nicole and Betty, my Gloucester Horticultural Society friends, on a visit to Whitehouse Perennials Gardens in Almonte. With the humidex, the temperature soared to 42C that day. We walked through the beautiful gardens in a daze. A mirage of day lilies swayed in this sweltering haze and the scent of flowering shrubs permeated the air ... Feeling lightheaded and weak-kneed from this heat, we could only go halfway down the winding paths. Betty was the first to go back, swearing that if she didn’t sit in the shade, she would faint. We left with our prized day lilies (mine, a gorgeous pink), some famous Whitehouse compost mix and a few other purchases and immediately made a beeline for the closest dairy bar for ice cream and cold bottled water. We bought fresh strawberries on the way home, figuring that picking was out of the question for now.
July rolled around amid threats of smog and high humidex. On Canada Day, I joined in the festivities on Petrie Island, having heard the beach area had been expanded. We got there after lunch following a bumpy wagon ride from the Trim Road Park & Ride. The sun was shining hard, a hot wind blowing sand in our faces and threatening to blow our straw hats off. In this sweltering heat, we soon left the beach to the sun worshippers and headed for the wooded conservation area. An unoccupied rock by the river’s edge providing a shady place to sit as we munched Bing cherries, relaxed and watched sailboats head for safety as a storm brewed. We headed for a restaurant just before it erupted. No reprieve from the heat afterwards, just a spectacular evening sunset ...
Hot! Hot! Hot! The garden was now growing wild – especially the pumpkin patch which I proceeded to cut back by half, throwing the cuttings into the compost bin. Lo and behold, the discarded vines rooted and soon two giant pumpkin plants grew in the rich compost mix, later producing fair-sized pumpkins. The garden became a jungle, rows completely disappearing under huge plants that overlapped each other and competed for moisture and nourishment. Beans were bountiful; cucumbers too. My zucchini patch on the other hand suffered as the pumpkin plants encroached on its territory.
Feeling hot! hot! As temperatures hovered in the 39+ range, "humidex" became a dirty word - the humidity being worse than the heat. People went about their daily business with a "grin and bear it" attitude. Without air conditioning, some suffered sleep-deprivation, others became listless and testy. Environment and Health Canada issued special warnings for the young, the elderly and those with respiratory problems. Me! I had always made a point of turning the air conditioner off and opening the windows to the cooling breeze at night ... but not that summer. I tried on several occasions, only to encounter a rush of stale, hot air which my asthmatic condition did not appreciate. My Hydro bill shot up but I was grateful for the benefits of a cool home, especially on days when smog was one more irritation. My beloved porch remained a deserted corner, inhabited only by a planter of colourful coleus that grew to colossal sizes along fragrant lavender.
By July 19th, we had counted 30 days of very hot and humid weather. When I watered the garden in the early evening, the swallows and goldfinches would swoop and dive into the spray. Robins picked their way through the almost nonexistent garden paths to later perch and sing their sweet evening song. The drone of heat bugs was often heard during the day and Monarch butterflies searched for sweet nectar. Almost every night, before and after dinner, my grandchildren would splash around in their new, inflatable pool, calling for me to join them.
With enough veggies for family, freezer and neighbours, gorgeous flowers gracing the property till late autumn, summer seemed to last forever. The swallows, redwings and assorted blackbirds banded early while crickets’ stridulations got louder and faster. Tomatoes were bountiful, especially the Golden Million which Logan ate like sweet candy. We enjoyed Swiss chard, beets, carrots, cucumber, onions, lettuce and radishes, green and Jalapeno peppers ... and occasionally, zucchini. Pigweed had invaded the garden but I had given up on weeding.
Labour Day weekend rolled around. Exhausted, I splurged on a trip to the Royal William Spa in Montebello for a good massage, fine dining, a dip in the pool and a good book to read. I should have come home refreshed ... But it was still too damn hot! Rumour had it this was the hottest summer since 1938. My reason to complain!
But on this January day of 2006, as Mother Nature dished out a potent mix of rain, freezing rain, ice pellets and snow, I was tempted to think back to the summer of 2005. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all!
22 May 2009, all rights reserved by Alberte Villeneuve-Sinclair. — Return to cover.
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