My guest room is unoccupied, 😦 except for Bear when the thunder rumbles and she’s scared. The room is dark and the fan in the window is noisy. I think she believes there is no storm in there.
Normally, this weekend, that room would be occupied. My whole HOUSE would be full of human beings, because Monte Vista would be holding the annual Potato Festival in the park a couple of blocks away. It’s so fun. Vendor booths, free baked potatoes, potato decorating contests for “kids of all ages,” games for the kids (bouncy houses, giant plastic spheres for kids to roll across the lawn, a climbing wall), horses to ride, a little train made of oil drums on wheels, pulled by a tractor, a show of historical semi trucks, homemade ice cream, dogs and owners, friends I haven’t seen since March at the Crane Festival, early morning tours of potato fields. Normally I write about it, but since it’s not happening, here are a couple posts about it in case you really want to attend. 2017, 2018
Yesterday as I drove to Alamosa I checked the status of the crops in the fields lining the 160. One field of potatoes has been harvested. Another is ready. The barley in the next field has been cut. There’s a field of green alfalfa. Then miles of rabbit brush. It’s a two-dimensional assessment but possibly it speaks for the fields going south and north deep into the San Luis Valley. A hard freeze (19F/-7C) is predicted for Tuesday night, followed by a night almost as cold Wednesday and up to freezing on Thursday. Then? Back to late summer temperatures.
Facebook let me know this morning that last year I was doing pumpkin sex out there with my Aussie pumpkins. That means that little Faith, the Aussie pumpkin that almost made it to maturity, hadn’t even started yet. I even have her picture when she was just an aspiration at the base of a female flower.
This summer has been on steroids.
Last evening Bear and I took a little ramble out to the golf course and found a little peace. Beautiful sunset and cool breeze after an 89F/31C degree day. Bear even found a beautiful cool patch of clover and rolled, almost as if there had been snow there, as there might be Wednesday morning.