Modesty Disintegrated by Heat and Drought

The heat is breaking records -- both the temperatures and their duration.  Drought conditions only exacerbate the problem.  After a stingy winter that gave up remarkably little snow to replenish the soil, spring and summer have thus far opted to repent of last years flooding by withholding moisture altogether.  Farmers across the midwest are wringing their hands, watching their crops dry up.  Meanwhile, I felt personally chastised yesterday when the water authority for the area looked down their noses at we glutenous citizens and the copious gallons of water we are using every day.  Voluntary water rationing is now in force.

Sure, but I have collard greens I am trying to mature -- to say nothing of all those tomatoes still ripening.  And did I mention the seeds I just planted last week gasping for life in all this dry heat?  Rationing doesn't seem like much of an option right now.  I know, I know; that's selfish and short-sighted, but...

In the meantime, I noticed yesterday something of a miracle.  Back in May I planted three kinds of okra seeds, and though the plants have sprouted and flourished, they have flourished low -- small, that is.  What should be a bush by now of 24-36 inches is stalled at around 6 inches.  They look healthy.  They just look small.  And then a week or so ago I began to see blossoms. 

I'll have to admit that I hadn't noticed okra blossoms before -- squash blossoms, yes, but not okra.  But there they were.  And yesterday, okra -- two different kinds:  several "Hill Country Reds" and several of the traditional green "Clemson Spineless."  As welcome as they are -- as gratefully giddy as I am -- I have to admit that they look a little foolish; like Shaquille o'Neal riding a tricycle.  Phallic fruitings not modestly veiled by the leaves -- there aren't enough leaves to offer much virtue -- but this time protruding vertically right out the top. 

I'm not complaining, you understand.  I'll take them -- and eat them...


...albeit with a smile.