Dear Farm Journal,
Rufus was off to Madison this morning with the deliveries and I tried to beat the heat in the greenhouses by getting out there early. I failed. It wasn’t early enough. As soon as the sun comes out, the heat spikes dramatically. When I slide the greenhouse doors open, waves of warmth waft through my body and I immediately start to sweat. I pull up the dill and cilantro bed and perspiration pours down my face. All lotion, sunscreen, and make-up have been put on in vain. They melt drip by drip off my skin and into the soil. I lay down black plastic, which only intensifies the sweltering sun and bakes my bare feet and legs. I set my phone up on the greenhouse wall to listen to Pandora and attempt to take my mind off the greenhouse effect. My phone overheats and shuts down. The perfectly perky indigo apple tomatoes turn limp and lackadaisical in the shock of the transplant and heat. They look like I feel. I go up to the house to get a drink and splash some water on my face. I look up into the mirror. Nope, I look worse than the tomatoes, and closer to the color they will be when they ripen. I press through the midday heat in the greenhouses and when Rufus gets home, he takes one look at me and says, “I think we should load up the boats and head to the river. Your face is that color red that means you need to go to the river”. Even though I know there is more work to be done, I don’t put up a fight. The river sounds too tantalizing to resist today.