It's Hot, Humid, And Buggy. In Short- Florida In June

 That is a young Georgia Thumper. The grasshopper I've been writing about for a few months. They start out as tiny little black hoppers that cover plants and then they begin to grow and they grow some more and then some more and eventually, they are huge and yellow and red and look like this.

They can (and do, trust me) grow to be up to three or more inches long. The first time I saw one as a child I could not believe my eyes. What the HELL was this terrifying, unholy thing? 

And they can chew right through a garden. The only way to really get rid of them is to squish them but it's hard to smash something that big. I mean, not physically, just mentally. For me anyway. 

I've seen a lot of the young black ones on the beans and I have smashed a few but mostly I just leave them figuring there's enough there to share. 

It was so hot and humid here this morning that by the time I'd picked the garden, I was teetering on sweaty collapse. Any thoughts I may have had about digging more potatoes went right out the window. 
No way, no how. It did rain a little while after I came in and it is much more bearable outside but still too much for me. 

Glen spent most of the late morning and early afternoon in town, gathering supplies to take to Lake Seminole to get some work done on the cabin. Owen's going with him and they're leaving early tomorrow morning and will spend two nights. Two helpers are going to be there and I have no idea what the immediate projects are but I don't have to know. Glen did hint broadly that a pot of chili might be good to feed everyone for a few days but I redirected him by educating him on the merits of a good Stouffer's Family Sized Lasagna. I didn't even make cookies. I am getting so mean in my older years. He and Owen are going to go grocery shopping on the way up there. I hear there's a Walmart only eleven miles from the cabin. 
Sigh. 
Not sigh because of the distance but sigh because Walmart. They do sometimes have good produce. Or so I hear.

Yesterday, the day I did NOTHING, I decided that time was up on the fourteen-day pickles. Every day I was reboiling the syrup and adding another half cup of sugar and it was getting so ridiculous. Plus, I had not used alum in them and so they were looking like someone's biology experiment going very, very badly. Alum is a substance that I assume has aluminum in it that crisps those pickles right up. I mean, those pickles will snap to attention and salute after you add it. But I didn't have any and besides, it just seems like it's not a good thing to be ingesting but hell- with all that sugar, who cares? 
Anyway, I hadn't added it and so I figured I'd just jar those pickles up and process them but somewhere along the line I'd fucked up the pickle syrup (it's a long story and I'm not even sure how it happened) so I had to make a whole new brine with vinegar and sugar and spices. I used a recipe for bread and butter pickles and that's what went into the jars along with the pickles and I haven't tried any but they look okay. 

Just for fun I took a picture of the canned goods in the pantry.

Please do not think the entire pantry looks that orderly and tidy. It most definitely does not and one of the things on my should-be-done list is taking everything out of it, cleaning the shelves, and putting everything back in better order. 
But that part of it makes me feel like a good pioneer housewife, perhaps even a Mormon! and brings me pleasure. 

Tune in tomorrow when I may or may not dig up more potatoes! Oh, the drama! I am sure you are all hanging on to the edge of your seats! 

Until then...

Love...Ms. Moon

If screaming were a color, this would be it. 

Screaming for joy, of course. Or...whatever.