Weather not a garden survives

"The trouble with weather forecasting is that it's right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often for us to rely on it."  

— Patrick Young

AUBURN, Maine — Perhaps I should change the dateline of my blog to Seattle or Miami.

Maine is quickly becoming a rain forest or an Everglades. Soon, crocodiles and discarded pythons will roam Maine's streams and threaten the state's wildlife. Bugs will grow larger and more annoying, and sand traps will become quicksand as golf courses turn into raging rapids.

The rest of the nation is bone dry, and yet my yard resembles a rice patty or the Mekong Delta in Vietnam. I mowed my lawn, or should I say a wetlands where standing water is now home to one of the most  pathetic creatures in the world — the disease-carrying mosquito.

I never thought Maine had a monsoon season. Pine Tree inhabitants are waterlogged and the tips of their fingers look like prunes. The air is disgustingly humid and everybody feels like taking a shower every five minutes, and if you don't bath in this heat stay far away from me.

People in the Northeast are looking pale because the sun is shrouded by thick, water-soaked clouds. My Italian tan continues to fade away in the misty fog that blankets most of Maine.

And every night, when devastating thunderstorms roll around, I watch helplessly as buckets of water fall from the sky and inundate my garden, which is fast becoming a swamp.

For Maine, this is the seventh wettest June on record. For the state's sweaty and clammy residents, we are all playing cat and mouse with the weather as we try to get yard work done in between each soaking.

A Bermuda high is to blame for making life miserable in this part of the world. This pain-in-the-ass weather system has parked its rump off the East Coast, sucking up tropical weather  from the South that continues to drench New England. But in the Southwest, Americans are cooking eggs and cookies on scorched sidewalks in triple-digit temperatures. 

There are two hideous weather extremes at work in this great nation. Conspiracy freaks could have a field day with these screwy weather patterns. Ricky Nelson would have to change the lyrics to his "Garden Party" medley if he was caught in this weeklong downpour.

There is no question the lack of sun and torrential rain has stunted my garden's growth. Last year, I needed a wheelbarrow to bring all those succulent vegetables into the house each day. If our gardens don't see the light of day, then I am afraid this year's growing season is a washout.

But any farmer or gardener knows, we are all at the whim of nature, and it doesn't give a damn about any of us.

And that explains why growing vegetables will always remain a difficult challenge to those who work with soil and get their hands dirty every summer. 

Getting soaked on this deal

AUBURN, Maine - For the moment, my vegetable garden no longer looks like the wetlands of the Louisiana Bayou. The wind-swept monsoons that washed out roads and flooded neighborhoods along of the state's overflowing rivers have abated.

The deluge began Saturday evening and didn't stop for nearly 24 hours.  But on-and-off heavy showers continue to make life dismal and damp for most of Maine. So far, nearly seven inches of rain have soaked the Pine Tree State. According to meteorologists, the rain won't fade away until Wednesday.

The Androscoggin River continues to swell, causing Great Falls to erupt with tons of water. The shallow banks along the river are disappearing as visitors brave the rain to snap shots or film the fast-moving water.

But who knows how long my garden will last in a nasty storm with no ending. And I will probably be mowing my lawn every 48 hours for the rest of the summer to keep it from growing like the Mekong jungle.

Weathermen saw this one coming last week when they began talking about a blocking high pressure system and a stationary low. I knew what that meant. That's when I went into a deep depression and began cursing Mother Nature's unkindness toward gardeners and farmers. It seems the old lady is always out to get us.

Every summer, this disheartening and plant-killing weather combination appears and makes me want throw in my hoe and shovel and plant grass instead of vegetables.

But I might have done something really smart to prevent a bunch of casualties in my underwater vegetable garden.

After cutting the lawn a couple of days before this soaker ravaged the state, I placed thick piles of grass clippings around my plants, and this may have absorbed the water and helped with the drainage in my garden.

Of course, a week of bright sunshine would be a welcomed sight for all green thumbs who have had their fingers crossed during these relentless downpours.

After all, we are the folks who bring good food to life.