Yesterday when I left work, the sun had returned after what seemed like weeks of endless, dreary grey and rain. I'd begun to think I wasn't meant to grow green beans here, because the Blue Lake seeds I'd planted in pots were (very briefly) actually IN little lakes from all the rain we received. They've been rescued and hopefully survive. I really enjoy the crunch of the just-picked beans and keep fantasizing about wandering into the back yard and snacking on them.
By the time I made it home it was beginning to get dark. After a happy-to-see-you dance of what seemed like twenty minutes River, my Chow mix and furry best friend, was prancing by the back door with a pained look on his face, waiting to be let in the yard. I turned on the porch light but I wasn't really prepared when I opened the door for the very loud and large kamikaze insect aimed straight at my face. At the last possible second, the winged pilot shifted directions and swung out into the night as I caught my breathe. The June bugs were back and my garden still isn't in.
The progress of plants around here really has slowed due to the weather. A co-worker of mine described it pretty well when he said we seem to be stuck in an "extended March". If it weren't for the calendar and the sudden reappearance of sunshine, it'd be pretty easy to forget that were are not far at all from the Memorial Day holiday. The Seville Farm Market opens that weekend, but I'm not sure what they will have to offer. No doubt it will be seedlings instead of spinach after this wet spring. We're all holding out hope we can hold off the rain, but mine's because I've been formulating a plan for the small patch by the door and the holiday weekend is the perfect time to put it into action. I've also got a coop that needs building that I don't want to sink in the mud, although I could use the wood for an ark if we need it. Looking at the forecast, it could go either way.
I'm grateful for the pop and buzzing as the June bugs bounce off of our outdoor lights to remind me that summer is afoot and better days aren't far ahead, but really prefer them to stay out of my face. I'd rather have some sunshine there instead.