Tag: Heat

The roses persist, and so do I.

I’ve been struggling with low-level depression for most of this year. Just doing the bare minimum of self-care has been a struggle. It’s effect on me has been exacerbated by a big cut in income I have experienced this year, and the loss of health insurance which prevents me from having access to mental health meds.

Also, it is so, so hot here. I haven’t built anything in my workshop in over a month, because it is in the 90’s in my workshop all the time. I haven’t been on one of my long walks in over a month because of the heat. This is circular, because one of the most effective ways for me to stave off the effects of depression is to go for long walks in nature (walking in the suburban mall doesn’t work the same way – I’ve tried).  

The big cut in income brings its own problems, of course, but the depression means you just do not have the energy to do the things you need to do to deal. I learned last week that one of my contracts is being cut in half. I don’t have the energy to freak out, but my brain really wants to. My car needs some expensive brake work, so I’ve parked it until I find some money, and instead am driving my very reliable 25 year old work truck, which is amazing except the air conditioning does not really work (have I mentioned how hot it is here?). I have no energy to work on any of this.

Everything is made harder when you are depressed.

Meanwhile, my antique roses are doing great.

Antique roses are those introduced to market before the introduction of hybrid tea roses in 1867. Antique roses tend to be bulletproof, because they were popular before disease fighting spraying regimes were really a thing. Back then, roses that couldn’t fight off disease just died.

I have a bunch of roses in my yard. Most of them are antiques. And right now it’s 98.8 degrees outside, with a heat index of 110, and my roses are just blooming up a storm. In August, in the middle of Mississippi.

I guess roses don’t get depressed.

Actually, the heat does stress them, but they keep going. They are resilient in the face of stress, not immune to it.

Talk about goals.

My phlox is laughing at this heat.

But I am not.

It’s hot here.

I know, I know. I live in Mississippi, and it’s August. What do you expect?

Actually, most summers are not horrible here. There are usually enough thunderstorms and cloud cover to keep it from getting too hot for too long – most days are around 90 to 93. It IS humid here, but it means we have depths of green in our landscape that are only dreamt of elsewhere.

But this summer is brutal.

The heat index here has been over 100 for weeks. The last few days the actual temperature has been over 100. And what’s worse, the nighttime temps have been hot as well – this morning at 5:30 when I got up, it was 80 degrees outside.

When it’s that hot, nothing gets a chance to recover, including us. Our house is going to be 78 degrees inside by 4PM, with the AC running full blast. It just can’t keep up.

We desperately need rain, too. It hasn’t rained any significant amount in almost six weeks. Even the most drought resistant shrubs in my yard are looking peaked. We are, in short, miserable. We are all miserable.

We had a severe drought in 2024, and it weakened lots of pine trees, which were then more susceptible to southern pine beetles. There are now dead pine snags all over Jackson in testimony to the drought of 2024.

I have 7 pine trees on my property that all survived the 2024 drought. I hope they survive this one, too. Hell, I hope I survive it.

I’m always attracted to the flowers that seem to thrive despite the harsh weather. Like the phlox in the front yard – paniculata, I think. I grabbed several of them last year at a native plant sale. There was no editing on that photo up top – it really is that rich and vibrant  in the midst of no water or care for six weeks.

This is one reason to grow native plants – they have evolved over generations to be able to thrive here. It draws in hummingbirds and bees and butterflies, and it comes back reliably year after year.

I have just talked myself into growing more of that for next year. My existing clumps are not yet big enough to divide, but I think it’s easy to grow from seed.