like swimming in the air

For anyone in the Northeast four hours ago, I would have recommended a cold splash of water to the face every hour and an abandonment of all vanity: the humidity was incredible, like a steam bath, making an overcast 78º feel totally debilitating. I was the embodiment of sticky. Sarah gave me a lesson on tying climbing roses and while we gathered rose canes atop two small ladders we chatted about how alone is too alone for a private person to handle. I love being able to surpass formalities and speak easily with people about what really matters to them. If ever you have an unbearable burden to unload, some kind of heartwrenching or mindbending issue to mull over aloud, there is nothing that gives me greater pleasure!

(This is why I sometimes fail at lighter interactions. I have a kind of Russian gravity about me at times that I'm beginning to suspect can be offputting.

But so what!)

Roses actually don't have the ability to climb, but their canes
can be trained, through tying, to grow up around pillars
and other supports in a tumbling, naturalistic style.

These amazing spiny hips won't ripen much further in
our Brooklyn climate.

More gorgeous hips. Don't these make you think
of fall fruits, even in mid-July?

This small insect perched in the best possible spot.

In a back room of the old Visitor's Center this afternoon, I saw a photo from the '20s of a white and a black horse drawing a plow through the rose beds to help establish the soil for the original plantings when the garden was begun. Remembering these animals' labor to lay the foundations of the garden will help me slow down and appreciate it even on the most scorching days, I suspect.

By 2:30 today, it was pouring, there'd been a flood warning issued, and the temperature had happily dropped. We got drenched in the warm rain, piled the wheelbarrows high with clippings, and Electrucked back to the garage speedyquick to wipe the dirt and dead bugs plant matter off our faces and arms. Now, by 6:30 (EGADS is it that time already? Studying be damned), hot coffee and nice soft pants are appropriate, which is really the best ever.

I'll also be doing a bit of casual research on protective spells for the home, after a pretty upsetting series of events unfolded last night with my nutso neighbors. I'll keep things mysterious for the moment and just show you this: my sadly crippled specs, missing one arm now after a tearful evening involving cops and threats and gin-breath. I had no choice but to wear them today, I hoped with the panache of a monocle. But there is actually nothing more ridiculous than emerging sweatyfaced from a rosebush with branches in your hair and your glasses dangling from one ear, I can tell you that right now.

UNLUCKILY FOR MY NEIGHBORS, I just picked up an old book on American Folklore from an outdoor market last Saturday. Hoodoo is found in the chapter on Witches, Ghosts and Strange Events, with charms to move neighbors, to overpower your enemies, and to cause "running feet." What a lifesaver.

Some things I still need to perform any of these charms:

-one guinea pepper
-a garden gate
-thirteen nails, ALL different sizes
-a "sharp onion"
-a chimney
-well water
-neighbor's shoe (1)
-hatred powder for use in hatband

It seems hoodoo can only take place in places where backyards are a thing, and neighbors are safe from hexes if they refrain from wearing fedoras.