The Boys of Summer

The hot, humid weather continued through last weekend. Back in March, Terry suggested that we get tickets to the Cubs vs. Brewers baseball game in Milwaukee on July 28. It seemed like a good idea at the time. When the weather is cold and dreary, it is hard to remember what summer misery is like. If I wasn’t in $171.00 for tickets, parking, and “convenience” fees, I would have lobbied to stay home and watch the game on TV in comfortable chairs and air conditioning.

But I had invested heavily, and by golly, we were going. I looked at the Google map before we left home and made three completely erroneous assumptions: 1) my GPS would be able to locate Miller Park without an address, 2) there would be signage at the critical bifurcation of I-94 north and I-94 south from I-894, and 3) if all else failed, we could find the address on the tickets.

Without GPS guidance or signage, I took a guess at I-94 south, but knew we’d missed it when we passed the airport. I pulled off the highway and into a church parking lot. Terry searched the tickets in vain for the address. I finally found it with my cell phone and put it in the GPS (1 Brewers Way, Milwaukee, WI, in case you ever need to know). I missed an opportunity to use the restroom at a gas station we passed on our way to get back on the highway. I would live to regret that decision.

Of course, there was a tremendous traffic jam as we approached the stadium. It seemed every time we needed to exit left, I was in the right lane, and vice versa. Fortunately, people in Milwaukee are more polite than people in Chicago. Everyone seemed to acknowledge that there were amateurs on the road, and allowed space for lane changes shortly after a turn signal went on.

My bladder was about to burst when we finally saw the parking lot from the entrance road. I knew from looking at the map before the trip that there were supposed to be restrooms in the parking lot. It turned out that there were chem-johns instead, but I didn’t care. Any pot in a storm, you know.  When I finally couldn’t stand it, I asked Terry if he thought he could manage to park the car.

“Sure,” he said, but then added, “I’ve never driven your car.”

“Put in in park, and press this blue button to turn it off.” I gave him the transponder and took off. Upon reaching the facilities, I was dismayed to observe that there were five people in line ahead of me. Still, I was done before Terry had even gotten into the parking lot.

Then we stood in line to get into the stadium. Even though we left two hours early, we missed the national anthem and opening pitch. I had worn a vest with pockets so I would not have to stand in the line for people who had to have bags searched. The express line was shorter, but still not fast. We emptied keys, cell phones, and watches into plastic bins and walked through metal detectors. Shortly after, we were in our seats.

A selfie--my goofy expression is from a bad habit of looking over my glasses instead of through them. It's a good picture of Terry.

We were seated mostly among Cubs fans, who referred to the stadium as “Wrigley Field West.” I don’t know how the architects managed it, but there was no moving air in the seating area even though there was a nice breeze up by the concession stands. A thistle seed hung motionless in the air in front of us, as if to emphasize the oppressive stagnation of the heat.

The view from our seats. Over 43,000 people in 90-degree heat with no moving air

Still there were a few exciting moments, such as a four-run Grand Slam homer and three-run homer for the Cubs. The final score was Cubs 11, Brewers 4. I worried a little about getting beaned by a foul ball. Terry refused to promise to catch it before it hit my head. A foul ball did land in our neighborhood. A man on the aisle stood up to try to get it, and it bounced off the stairs and hit him squarely in the crotch. A collective groan went up from the men around me. Someone said, “I hope he already has his kids.”

Some folks thought he should get the baseball as a souvenir and shouted, “Give him the ball!” All I could think was that he was going to need a new one…

He was doubled over for quite a little while. Security came to check on him but did not escort him from the stands. He assured everyone he was fine. The game went on.

We ducked out at the bottom of the ninth inning, fairly confident that the Cubs had the win. We were able to beat a lot of the traffic out of the park, and were home in an hour.

We resumed our usual routine Monday. The meat chickens and pullets are getting big. We are hoping that the roosters don’t get too aggressive before it is time to have them butchered. There are a lot of them.

Four (of 14) meat chickens and two (of six) pullets.

Wednesday and Thursday were as nice as days get. The humidity dropped and the temperatures were in the 70’s to low 80’s. I finally felt up to walking back to the wet meadow. We weren’t able to do anything about the reed canary grass this year, and it is everywhere. It has not yet crowded out the obedient plant.

The obedient plant has not yet been crowded out by reed canary grass

The tall aster-like plant that I can’t identify is still doing well. There were two surprises. Common ironweed (Vernonia fasciculata) is blooming for the first time since we first scattered the seeds four (?) years ago.

Common ironweed blooming for the first time

A couple of years ago, I planted some swamp milkweed seedlings. A drought followed immediately thereafter, and with no way of watering them, I assumed they perished. And yet, here they are, right where I planted them. Go figure.

Healthy stands of swamp milkweed from seedlings that I thought died after I planted them.

We harvested the garlic, which was much easier than last year, when we had to dig it early out of flooded mud.

Garlic hanging up to dry

We have started digging potatoes, one hill at a time as needed. Nothing like new potatoes!

The beautiful magenta of new red potatoes

The watermelons are coming along.

A developing watermelon

A row of mixed flower seeds that Jane got free with a plant order has started to bloom. I’m very excited that poppies were included. I love poppies. I have no idea what most of the flowers are. While I was weeding (without my camera), I saw a silver-spotted skipper maneuver a proboscis that was close to half its body length down the long floral tube of a phlox flower. The proboscis is as thin as a strand of human hair—how can it be moved with such precision? It functions as a straw, so I assume it is hollow. Where is there room for nerves and muscles? A mystery.

Red poppies among the other flowers in the assortment

Here and there, we’ve allowed sunflowers to grow from the bird seed that the ground squirrels cache everywhere. This one by Hilda’s compost bin is particularly beautiful.

A volunteer sunflower by Hilda's compost bin

The tom turkeys have been hanging around. Terry saw a hen with a bunch of “softball-sized” chicks back in the woods. I have not been so lucky.

Four tom turkeys

We are eating as many peas and green beans as we can and freezing the rest. We are awash in cucumbers, and those don’t freeze. Since I don’t work anymore, we have to find new places to give them away. This one had an error in gene expression and made a leaf where it did not belong. I’d never seen that before. Every day is a new adventure!

Genetic expression of a leaf where a fruit belongs