This is what I call "deep summer". When July 4th arrives it signals we are into what Maine is all about. The last couple of weeks, since summer was marked by the calendar, have brought us rain, thrunder, hail, wind, humidity and what some think is unseasonable heat. Now we settle into summer with all the tourists, town fairs, old home days, art shows, clam and lobster festivals, and the great MOXIE DAYS, which is held in Lisbon Falls, Maine, the second weekend in July (this year on June 8th).
A doctor* created Moxie as an elixir which was given by the spoonful for a variety of symptoms. Then in 1876 it was made into a carbonated beverage in Union, Maine. My father liked Moxie. When we went on picnics that was the drink we took. I didn't like it as a child, but acquired a taste for it as I grew older. I haven't had any for many years, and don't know that I would like it so much now. I have a tendency to like sweet things as I age, and I hardly ever drink carbonated drinks. The Moxie Festival has grown since the first one in 1983, and now includes a 5K road race, car show, lots of memorabelia and souvenirs. It is a "three day powwow." (It's a wonder that is still poliltically correct language, since it's not connected to the Indians in any way.) There is no reason to be bored in Maine in the summer. This year, lobsters shed their shells early so the delicacy is plentiful and slightly less costly as they re-emerge with soft new homes; the beaches are clean, (yes they are, in spite of what the government says) and the ocean and lakes are warmer than usual for this time of year.
I deadheadded the roses; poor things were beaten and battered by the recent high winds, hail and rain. And cleaned out the foxglove which is so beautiful when in bloom, but downright nasty looking when they "go by."
I cannot keep the weeds out of the mulch bed, but the mulch bed was a bad idea to begin with. It seemed so reasonable that it would be a good place for Nick to "go" and much easier for me to keep clean. He doesn't "go" there, but he loves to lay down in it, and being a hairy monster, he drags in mulch with every trip. I have taught him to shake on command out there, (which proves you CAN teach an old dog new tricks) and it eliminates some, but I am constantly fighting to keep it out of the carpet.
I think in the fall I will spread some loam and seed it for next year.
July's moon is the Buck Moon. It was full last night, but in the early waning nights it will still look bright and wash my yard with cool light. The mosquitos found the patio last night, so I will enjoy the adjoining four-season room with the screened door and windows open. A well known poet implied there is nothing so "rare as a day in June" but I am inclined to think evenings in July in Maine are practically idyllic, and pretty rare as in a good year we probably can only count on 25 of them at most.
*From Maine but practicing in Massachusetts
Credit: Moxie Days:MELiving.com