Un mois de mai pourri

A rotten month of May, that is, weather-wise. It's raining again this Wednesday morning. Yesterday was sunny and breezy, but chilly — the low temperature was just above 40ºF/5ºC, and the afternoon high was about 60ºF/15ºC. Monday was rainy, and so was Sunday.

What I'm hoping is that it won't turn out that we had both the beginning and end of our summer weather in April. That was when it got unseasonably hot and dry this year. We had only 3 mm of rain during the whole month of April; we've had 42 mm of rain in May, and as it said it is raining again today. May has been the polar (appropriate word...) opposite of April.

Callie sits on the steps listening to Walt talk to her while I
take her picture. She's been spending a lot more time
indoors this month than we would prefer. Tomorrow
will make four weeks that she's been living here in Saint-Aignan.

The weather and news people on the radio and television aren't yet saying this has been the worst May in recorded weather history, but it wouldn't surprise me to hear them start talking in those terms. On last night's news they ran a story about all the snow in the Alps right now and the unusually cold weather around. Farmers in the Alps are still waiting for the ground to warm up, and cattle-breeders haven't yet been able to put their animals out in the pastures yet. The poor cows have had to spend May in the barns.

Remember those cherries I picked a couple
of days ago? Walt made a cherry tart.

What I'm afraid of is that we might have a cool, damp summer. We didn't really have a winter this year, so maybe we won't have a summer worthy of the name either. It's happened in the past, in years I can remember. Last summer we had the coolest, dampest month of August in a long, long time.

I remember one particular summer in Paris, back 25 years, ago where it was chilly and rainy for months. Women were wearing boots instead of sandals. Umbrellas didn't get put away. It was gray and dismal, a little like some summers in San Francisco that I remember. In France, that chilly summer followed the especially hot and dry summer of 1976 by about four years. And we had a record hot summer in 2003. Plus ça change...

There were about two kilos of cherries, or 4½ lbs.
Half went into the pie. With the other kilo I made
preserves by putting them in a pan along with a
good amount of sugar and letting them boil down
until they made a thick syrup. The result is jellied,
full of fruit, and still pretty tart-tasting.

But let's be optimistic. It's only May 30. By this time next week, the rain and clouds might only be a dull memory. The sun will warm the earth and the tomato, eggplant, and bell pepper seedlings will start growing like weeds. The pumpkin, zucchini, okra, and bean seeds will sprout too — they certainly don't lack for moisture.