After working outdoors all day Monday, I officially hate summer. I will say I have an incredible amount of empathy for my fellow humans world-wide. At least at the end of the day I can climb into an air-conditioned truck and go home to a somewhat cool house.

I’m grateful to not live in an urban environment where all that cement holds the heat all night long.

I do not remember an early summer with such a huge amount of fabulous hydrangeas in bloom. Nevertheless, they are not my favorite. Their beauty is short lived and they require tons of work off-season.

My personal garden is awash in the weed flea bane. It’s very pretty in bloom. For once, I am not beating myself up for my lack of weeding diligence. I was thinking about the word acceptance. I guess it’s what one finally comes to when something is unacceptable and out of personal control.

A couple of falls ago, I took vinca out of various window boxes and planted it in my garden. Word to the wise — never do that. It is a helmet over everything. It’s pretty in the spring with its blue flowers but now is downright laughable.

I planted beets from seed into flats in early spring. I painstakingly separated each one about an inch apart in the seed tray. Then I just plopped them out of the tray into an open bed. I’m now eating baby beets with their greens attached. Just a quick saute is necessary. I’ve said many times that nature is grand.

Last summer, after harvesting onions, I replanted with buckwheat. It’s beloved by bees and improves the soil. I didn’t bother turning it into the bed later in the fall but tossed some flakes of hay right over it. Then, thinking I was a genius (never a good idea) I seeded winter rye into the hay with every intention to turn the whole situation over this spring. You have to see where this is going.

I never got to it and the rye was thigh high and impossible to work into the soil. I smushed it down, ran a tiny strip of dirt down the middle and planted pathetic tomatoes sideways to cover half of their length. After a week they actually are standing up and looking promising.

Since they are the paste variety, I’m not staking them. Hopefully, they will fill a couple of canners this fall.

I received kind words from a woman who lives in Bucks County, Pa., north of Philadelphia. Bucks County is bounded by the Delaware River. Remember George Washington crossing said river?

It’s always nice to hear from a fellow Pennsylvanian. Rew, Pa. is in McKean County, the complete opposite in the state’s geography — northwest as opposed to southeast. Thanks, Susan.

You’ve probably noticed an inordinate number of ticks this season. Why is it that they manage to attach themselves to the exact spot on a human body that is nearly impossible to reach? Between using arthritic fingers, reading glasses and mirrors, it a confounding effort to get at them.

I wonder if I should drink a cup of afternoon coffee in order to stay up past my bedtime for the debate on Thursday? There has been nonstop coverage of all the things Joe Biden should or should not say. God help him.

I’ve been watching debates since Kennedy/Nixon in 1960. They used to be civil and somewhat boring. Then 2016 happened. Wonder if we will ever be the same or are we doomed to anger, disrespect and just plain meanness?