Since moving to the Vineyard in 1970, I have never understood that classic from Porgy and Bess, “Summertime and the living is easy.” Summer is by far my most difficult season. For years, I was a waitress in a very busy restaurant. And now I’ve been gardening for a living for at least a quarter of a century. Both professions are extremely stressful during the high season.

The other day I was so tired, hot and miserable that a good cry seemed in order. But I was too dehydrated to form tears. I cracked myself up at the irony.

Recently, I mentioned a few trumpet vines. I would be remiss if I failed to mention the one climbing the stone wall surrounding the four way intersection on Franklin street in Vineyard Haven. In the seventies, I worked for two elderly women who lived there. They were the two remaining daughters of Captain Eldridge of Eldridge Tide and Pilot Book fame.

Mary Macy lived until her 90s and Gratia Harrington made it to 104. I helped in their gardens and cooked supper. Gratia would capture weeds between a hoe and her cane, then give them a quick toss over her head. My job was to follow along behind picking them up.

Back to summer stress, briefly. Why do people insist on walking or running two abreast, wearing ear buds and with their backs to the traffic? I learned to walk on the left, facing traffic when I was five years old. I’m pretty sure Earl J. Hyatt Elementary School in Rew, Pa. was not unique in teaching that valuable safety lesson.

The wineberries are out in force. I know they are considered an invasive but they are delicious and, by far, my favorite berry. They never make it into the house. My friend, Tom Chakas, sent me the proper name of that berry some time ago. I promptly forgot it. He’s somewhere in California. If you read this, Tom, please refresh my memory.

Oddly, I had a few gladiolas come back over the winter. I had missed a few in the annual fall digging. No matter, they lived. The ones I dug and stored were lost. Go figure.

There have been some interesting successes in the perennial beds. I started some old fashioned hollyhocks in January. They are a biennial so I expected them to bloom next year. Wonder of wonders, they went ahead and put on a show this year.

There are many glass half full days if only I paid more attention. I am pleased with my broccoli this year. I always grow the open pollinated heirloom De Cicco. It makes a small floret as opposed to a big head like the store-bought ones. There are many of them, however. Daily picking is a must so they do not flower and seed too quickly.

This is a good subject — the importance of dead heading. A flower’s sole purpose in life is to reproduce. Once the bloom fades, seeds will form. The plant’s job is now done and it will not continue to put out as many flowers. We dead head to trick the plant into producing more.

There are some benefits to neglecting some garden tasks. I mistook pole beans for the bush variety and didn’t provide any support for the vines. Luckily, I also did not weed in a timely fashion. They quickly grew chest high. Just right, it seems, to support the beans. There you have it. Why on earth would a sensible person run for President? I simply do not have, let’s call it, a lust for power. I’m not even fond of bossing around my tiny crew on the job sites.

First of all, our whole democratic process has been hijacked by big bucks and special interest. For example, Ted Cruz has raised 38 million dollars of which 34 million came from just four people. People, it seems, who are big in the Texas fracking industry.

Secondly, who wants their sordid pasts unleashed all over the news wires? I especially hate how the candidates say what they think you want to hear. We never know what they really think.

I guess that’s the beauty of Donald Trump. He’s saying what many of them think!