With labor heated sore

June 8, 2009

Then came the iolly Sommer, being dight
In a thin silken cassock coloured greene,
That was vnlyned all, to be more light:
And on his head a girlond well beseene
He wore, from which as he had chauffed been
The sweat did drop; and in his hand he bore
A boawe and shaftes, as he in forrest greene
Had hunted late the Libbard or the Bore,
And now would bathe his limbes, with labor heated sore.

– Spenser, The Mutabilitie Cantos, Canto VIII

The container tomatoes looked like they were coming down with something, so I broke down and bought some organic everythingcide which is supposed to work on mites, aphids, scales and various fungal maladies. I’ve only applied it twice, and it doesn’t look like the stuff is spreading, so maybe it’s working.  I went  ahead and hit the zucchini as well, since a few of the leaves were starting to mottle a little bit. The plants themselves are…gigantic. Like, 3 or 4 feet across and probably 2-3 feet high. I’m not sure I could bear seeing them croak after getting so large. There seem to be a few miniature zucchinis among the foliage, so I think we’re on the right track.

I spent Saturday evening at a cornhole tournament that our scout pack organized as a fundraiser. There’s a late-summer trip to the Huntsville space center planned, and the goal was to take some of the sting out of the price.  Through a series of events too long to relate here, I have a cotton candy machine in my garage. I schlepped it to the event, but didn’t end up moving much candy. This was actually OK, since I’d never actually used the thing before and needed the practice. I also discovered that the plug really needs to be replaced.  A thick layer of electrical tape is not a proper substitute for a ground prong. Zot!

Yesterday I had to run the thing out of candy sugar before I could clean it and put it away, so the kids played in the sprinkler and ate gobs of blue cotton candy.  I don’t think it gets a whole lot better than that for the under-10-set. Everyone turned in early and the oldest girl chased fireflies around the yard.  Quintessential summer.

Century training continues apace (har).  I have a little bit of travel this week that’s going to interrupt some of my daily riding schedule. Dumb work. They’ve got their nerve.

Anyway, our school year is tapering down to a sort of trickle. The older kids are winding things up in between scouting day camp, VBS and upcoming trips with grandparents (one is going with my parents out west to Colorado, the other with E’s parents to Kansas). Some time in August, we’ll haul up to Maryland to visit family there, which ought to be a good time.

I’m about halfway through Infinite Jest. Parts of it are hilarious. The whole of it is simply amazing, in terms of scope and complexity. I don’t know how he kept on top of all of it. I think by the end of it, I’ll want to unwind with something a little less complicated. Chaucer in Middle English, or something along those lines. Chaucer is blogging, by the way.

We recently wrapped up BSG 4.0 and are waiting for 4.5 to hit the Netflix queue so that we can find out how it all ends. On deck after that is Mad Men with a sprinkling of movies that came and went without us (Cinderella Man and The Happening are sitting upstairs even now).

Looking ahead: midsummer – the summer solstice –  is approaching, and this year coincides with Father’s Day. The sun will reach its northernmost arc before starting the southern retreat. About this same time, the Church celebrates the Nativity of St. John the Baptist

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