Bedraggled and crispy.


I often breathe a sigh of relief that I was not born in the Victorian era as their garb would have stifled me for sure. I don’t know how those Victorian ladies survived the heat in an age of corsets, crinolines, bustles and bustiers. No wonder they fainted all the time and needed to be revived with smelling salts.

The weather folks are all saying this is the last wickedly hot AND humid day before a storm rolls in later to knock back the humidity, but unfortunately the heat wave will linger. I know we all complained enough about the brutally cold Winter and chilly Spring that there should be no complaints about these hot Summer days. I distinctly remember saying, that I, for one, would have no complaints about the heat when it arrived, and now, of course, I’ve whined about it all week, so I guess that labels me a malcontent.

Once again I left early for my walk to beat the heat. There was no breeze, the temps were already in the 70s and the sun was just starting to filter through the clouds.

As I walked through the neighborhoods, I noticed more and more bedraggled-looking blooms in pots and planters and many hanging baskets had the dregs of formerly fine-looking flowers which now resemble something the Addams Family might place on their shepherd hooks – not just bedraggled, but downright dead. We sure got spoiled with Mother Nature taking care of our flowers and lawns with cool days and rain showers daily. Even the lush lawns are beginning to get tinged with yellowish patches which can’t be blamed on Fido, and, I suspect in just a few more days of this heat, those grass blades will be crispy.

I just walked to the railroad tracks and back, not wanting to get waylaid by the 8:20 a.m. train rumbling through. That was a quick trip, with four more miles to add to my total. By the time I arrived home, the sun was high in the sky and the morning was quickly getting downright hot and sticky.

As to me, I liken myself to a flower – a daisy to be exact. When I left the house I looked like a hardy Shasta Daisy and by the time I returned I resembled a Gerbera Daisy – you know the type … those cute and colorful blooms with the perky petals, that is – until the sun hits them, then, they, just like those Victorian ladies of yesteryear, collapse in half and faint dead away.

About Linda Schaub

This is my first blog and I enjoy writing each and every post immensely. I started a walking regimen in 2011 and decided to create a blog as a means of memorializing the people, places and things I see on my daily walks. I have always enjoyed people watching, and so my blog is peppered with folks I meet, or reflections of characters I have known through the years. Often something piques my interest, or evokes a pleasant memory from my memory bank, so this becomes a “slice o’ life” blog post that day. I respect and appreciate nature and my interaction with Mother Nature’s gifts is also a common theme. Sometimes the most-ordinary items become fodder for points to ponder over and touch upon. My career has been in the legal field and I have been a legal secretary for four decades, primarily working in downtown Detroit, and now working from my home. I graduated from Wayne State University with a degree in print journalism in 1978, though I’ve never worked in that field. I like to think this blog is the writer in me finally emerging!! Walking and writing have met and shaken hands and the creative juices are flowing once again in Walkin’, Writin’, Wit & Whimsy – hope you think so too. - Linda Schaub
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2 Responses to Bedraggled and crispy.

  1. Marge Aubin says:

    I think they had a mini battery operated fan under their skirt . I know I would have. All my perky flowers are dying. I watered them and put them in the shade and still lost a lot.


    • lindasschaub says:

      I think that is why they had hand fans so much – I don’t know how they did it. Battery operated fans sound like a good idea. That heat just sucked the life out of a lot of flowers along the way where I have been walking.


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