Moist, Damp, Wet!

After a winter of unprecedented snow, I now find myself in a world of rain.  I don’t know for sure how many days it has rained here since early May.  A quick search of the web is inconclusive.  But the change from brittle, dry cold to slimy, soggy heat is one reason I love this place.  You get the most extreme but not for long enough to make you pack up and move.  Variety, yes!

The carpets all feel squishy and slick.  Vacuuming them makes me think perhaps I should be using a wet vac.  Thankfully, Alice, Dahlia and the cats are opting for the tile or hardwood floors.  Their hot, hairy bodies are musky in the humidity.  Not an aroma therapy I desire in the bedroom carpet.

Every door in the house is stuck.  Swollen wood frames refuse to allow the door to close, but woe is me if I do get it closed; opening it again means throwing myself against it like a DEA agent entering a crack house.   Cabinets in the kitchen and bath, due to the high moisture content inherent in such places,  are particularly prone to breaking my fingernails.

Even the wrought iron stair case up to my loft office is dangerously slick.  It feels like the world is swelling and sweating.  A cloud of cold vapor escapes as I open the refrigerator door, falling like a cloud on my toes.

I’ve moved most of the houseplants out including the two huge trees.  Suddenly, my living room feels barren and cavernous.  The palm has been re-potted, something it desperately needed.  I wish I had given more thought to how I was going to get it back into the house before settling it into a wash tub sized container.  The Fig Tree has shrunken.  It bends gently under the weight of the rain washing its dusty leaves.

But I have no complaints.  It is July in New England and it only happens once a year.

I may need a forklift to move the palm back into the house!