Looking out my Backdoor: Surviving the heat, some brain damage

In Jalisco, we are held fast in the grips of unrelenting heat and drought. As northeastern Montanans, we all know what that is like. Hot. Dry. Dusty. Depressing. Blue skies. Not a cloud in sight.

My tender magnolia flowers all dried up in the fragile bud, turned to brown dust without opening. Even with daily watering, vegetables I planted poked up their little slender heads, looked around, said, “No, not me, uh huh, no, and keeled over.” As each bucket is harvested, I’m leaving them empty, fallow, waiting for a change. Maybe beans. I plant a few beans. No rains in sight.

The tough stuff is good; bouganvillia, hibiscus, several native-type flowers, all bloom. Boug and hibiscus make lovely teas. I make sun tea every day but woman does not live by tea alone.

Every morning I get up earlier, now at 6:00. Temp usually around 68F and humidity in the upper 90s. Lola and I dawdle through our walk, come home and I plow into my chores and projects. My aim is to get done by noon. By noon, humidity and temperature are the morning numbers in reverse. Or higher.

My friend Michelle went to the Oxxo, think convenience store, and bought a cheap Styrofoam cooler. She lined the bottom with bottles of frozen water. Cut two holes in the side and duct taped in two tubes of PVC pipe, sticking out. Cut a hole in the top and inserted a small table fan, face down. Voila! The swamp cooler works!

My solution is multiple daily showers plus inertia. And stay hydrated. Water, water, water. Stand. Soak. Drink. Drink. Drink.

Idle afternoons lead to wild thoughts, most of which land in the discard pile. If I had paid more attention in chemistry class, maybe I’d find the way to bring my brilliant ideas into completion. Like this one: if I could scrape my skin several times a day and crystalize the scrapings, I’d never have to buy salt again. Brilliant, yes?

Leo was here watering for me this morning. I’d been in deep thought. What really, really, really wants to grow in extreme heat? “Leo, what if you rototill up the backyard, plant one toranja tree (grapefruit, I really want a grapefruit tree), and plant the rest of the yard into a melon field.”

You’ve never tasted watermelon or cantaloupe until you’ve tasted one fresh from the field here.

Leo looked at me and responded with one emphatic, “No! Sondrita, has the heat fried your brain?”

The young man has no imagination. Since I need his help, I’ll chip away at him. Personally, I think the idea of a melon patch just as brilliant as Michelle’s swamp cooler.

“If not melons, let’s plant agave.” Leo gave me what my children called “The Look.” I think he learned it from me.

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Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/. Email [email protected].