This past weekend was the reason for living. The low humidity and reasonable temperatures were coupled with cool nights, making most folks pretty darned happy.

Violet and I were pleased to attend the Cape Cod Symphony concert with Jaws playing in the background. I must say all the negative press surrounding the Beach Road Weekend was completely unfounded. I thought Vineyard Haven had less traffic than usual. The event grounds were clean and well organized. The staff was super friendly. A good time was had by all. Kudos to all who put in the hard work.

I still have no water in my big vegetable garden, which is putting a damper on my otherwise cheerful nature. I planted a row of green beans after I knew there was no water. I hand-watered twice and abandoned all hope. A week later — in Gobi Desert conditions — they actually came up. I’m so proud of them. Honestly, the potential of life within a tiny seed is truly awe-inspiring.

In my travels I’ve been admiring the trumpet vines. There is an orange one threaded into the woods opposite the Mae Fain property just past Lambert’s Cove Road, lower end.

Then at Heather Gardens on the edge of the parking lot there is a yellow one on a tree that (I am the Queen of the Superlatives, but honestly) must go 75 feet. Mike said it’s only five or so years old. Wow!

Ghost Island Farm is sporting an enormous blown-up flamingo. It tickles me every time I drive by. I’ve always been fond of flamingo yard art. I know they are probably tacky but I choose to think of them as campy.

The field at the Farm Institute is completely covered in Queen Anne’s Lace. Lovely!

The perennial bed still looks pretty decent. Sometimes by mid-August it is like the rest of us: tired of summer. Platycodon, gaillardia, rudbeckia and perennial sunflowers are all showing off still.

One thing that does not look good is the spent sticks of daylilies. I do not get the appeal. They are entirely too high-maintenance.

I did a major harvest of onions. The storage varieties were smaller than I like, but with no water or weeding they did their best.

The sweet ones like White Sweet Spanish and Ailsa Craig are huge, however. Hopefully I will use them quickly, as they rarely last until Christmas. They tend to go all soft by then.

Recently I was in Edgartown channeling George Carlin: “Anybody driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac?” Passing Bittersweet Farm, I saw a horse with a bird on its back. It was completely unbothered. So...there you have it. Lessons from nature!

I’m losing the ability to be shocked by anything said or done by DJT. We knew who he was before he came down the escalator. He is right about one thing: he could shoot someone on Fifth avenue and not lose any votes. I’ve never been able to get past the mocking of a disabled reporter.

The huge ICE raid in Mississippi is just more of the same. Aside from the racist tweets and the pathological narcissism, he’s just plain mean.

You have to work very hard to convince me that those poor people working in a poultry processing plant are taking a job you want. I raise and kill my own chickens, around 25 a year, and no amount of money would make that attractive daily employment.

Those billionaire owners are barely paying minimum wage to desperate people, but they do no get separated from their children. Shame on us!