For the past week, several days had skies filled with very interesting thunderheads. Sadly, they produced no rain to speak of. Everywhere else across the state seems to get torrential downpours but we barely get clouds and mist. The gardens are suffering.

I’ve been busy with one of my least-favorite garden chores: the hauling around of hoses and sprinklers.

Because rain has been promised in vain by the forecasters, I spent some time pulling up the onions. The tops had not totally fallen over but I did not want them getting wet. They are now sprawled all over the greenhouse. I am quite pleased with the harvest this year. They are not as large as in years past but they make up for it in quantity.

I grew a nice round zucchini this year called Ronde de Nice. I believe it is a French variety. They should be picked at about tennis ball size.

The monarda, aka bee balm, is very attractive to hummingbirds. What lovely little critters. The plant is used in the making of Earl Grey tea.

Every year I seem to get a different prolific weed. Once it was ladyfinger and this year purslane. I am familiar with weeds since I tend to leave them to flourish in my poor garden.

One that I would never pull is Queen Anne’s Lace. It’s everywhere now. Check out the field opposite the Fair Grounds. It’s particularly nice with the blue chicory. Blue and white are a great combination.

One whole area in the flower bed is filled with re-seeds of Blue Horizon ageratum. It’s a tall cultivar. I never knew they would re-seed.

Speaking of going to seed: I got a call from Lynn Weber. She had both celery and parsley go to seed this year from her spring seeding. Both of us find this unusual since both plants are biennial and should not have seeded until next year, after a winter. We wondered if this is another casualty of global warming.

Violet’s photo this week is flowering Praying Hands hosta. It’s an upright, tidy hosta, perfect in an ornamental shady pot. Like all its hosta cousins, it is beloved by deer so spraying is a must unless you luckily live right in town.

I’ve always had deer on the property but every year they become less fearful and more bold. They come right up to the front door and munch on the pots. I’ve known them to go onto people’s porches and eat the window box plantings. I guess we should consider ourselves lucky we do not have elk or moose.

When I was growing up in the mountains of western Pennsylvania, it was common to have bears. They used to tear apart the beehives and relax in the apple tree, eating their lunch.

There was a town dump. Folks threw their trash over the side of the mountain. As youngsters, we went there and pestered the bears. Our parents never found out, thank goodness. Somehow those times seem less dangerous than the one in which we live now.

I still wear my mask in public places indoors. Being fully vaccinated does not work when there are so many who are choosing to ignore the shot. I love the “our bodies, our choice” defense coming from those conservatives who work hard to take away the choice of others in the doctor’s office or bedroom.

I was riveted by the moving testimonies of the four policemen at the Congressional hearings about January 6. Mitch McConnell and Kevin McCarthy could not even be bothered to watch the hearing. The officers willing to die to protect them were not even worthy of their time in front of a television in their air-conditioned offices. What a world . . . we elect these people?