It's already mid summer here. Terribly hot in the daytime. Almost 35 degrees C everyday. They seem, as already told elsewhere, to ignore that it could have been much hotter without El Nino in the Pacific Ocean going on.
Looking up the tree of Indian Lilac at the entrance gate, it has already bloomed. It sure is a sign of midsummer arrival.
In close up. Not only indicating presence of the midsummer here at present but also subtle sign of early fall coming in the near future.
Against the fierce sunray and the drought since the rainy season was gone, the flowers of Marie Gold are vividly blooming. This was naturally grown from spontaneous seeding. Such plants naturally grown might be through the selection at the seed level and seem to grow large and healthy. This acquired trait might be inherited through epigenetic process. Some flowers have already turned to seeds, which I would collect for the next season.
The front yard. With the rainy gone, the lawn will grow slower. But it still needs to cut it once a couple of weeks. There is another "used to be" lawn place at the entrance, which has already turned out to be weeds place. I should cut them at the same interval.
I have complained to my brother, 4 years younger than me, working as a psychiatrist, that it made me wonder how long I should go on caring for this place even if it was a heritage from our mother's ancestors and our aunt had started a tuberculosis sanatorium during WWII. It is a fun for me to concentrate on pulling the weeds and caring for vegetables. But I could not deny that I had a feeling of compulsion to maintain this place memorable for our family.
He told me gently who could know there would be someone who takes over this place. Our parents, he remembers, have done the same thing as I do at present. His words are not a promise but a quiet encouragement to me. He is still a psychiatrist. I believe he has done a good job in his profession and has given much comfort and relief to people with anxiety and worry for the future.
This is the first harvest of pumpkin this season. Pretty big. I wanted to cook it for tempura. When I almost finished cooking it, I have turned over the fry pan and the hot oil was dumped over to the floor. Some of it has poured on my left foot. In haste, I took off the socks and rushed to the water tap. Having water poured on the foot for 20 or 30 minutes, I cleaned the dumped oil and things at the kitchen and finished cooking. I have never done such a mistake in the past. Cooking without a tempura pan missing somewhere might be one reason for such a trouble. But my aging should be the main reason, I believe. I should be even more careful not to make such a trouble for now. Even more. Two blisters on the inside aspect of the foor tell what happened to me last night.
One more thing. When I got the burn and was feeling the irritating pain on the foot, I was reminded of people burnt with incendiary bomb or other ammunitions. They might have much worse burn all over their bodies. What agony they must have! Especially the children in war place. My small burn could never be comparable to their wounds. The pain on my left foot has still made me remember of those people in war.
The fried pumpkin and chicken as well tasted good.
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