Ten Ways to Cure a Case of Early Summer Melancholy
Color, books, art, friends, flowers, pasta, dinner out, a fog walk, a farmers’ market and more
In the early morning when the grass is still wet with dew and the sun is just a tennis ball in a hazy sky, I sit on the front steps lacing my sneakers, soaked in insect repellant, and I have only one thought: I miss Farmer. He loved warm days and always pushed his way past me to get out the door – in case I intended to make him stay inside – and did his morning roly-polys (aka back scratching) on a patch of moss by the deck. Then he’d take up his position on a bed of pine needles at the top of the hill to watch me do my garden chores. If he couldn’t see me, he’d move to one of his other favorite spots.
It is a strange feeling now to have an empty space trailing me. I look over my shoulder at where he should be – and nothing. It is a palpable omission, this black hole.
In this way, Farmer followed me around the garden, season after season, year after year. It is a strange feeling now to have an empty space trailing me. I look over my shoulder at where he should be – and nothing. It is a palpable omission, this black hole.
To fill it, I have been taking long drinks of color. Today I found myself just standing on the gravel path staring at the clematis, the profusion of giant periwinkle blooms cascading down the side of the outdoor shower. I’m dumbfounded that a wispy five-year-old vine that provides occasional snacks for the deer can metamorphosize into this work of art in the space of a few days.
Truthfully, it’s not just Farmer’s absence that’s bothering me; I have a touch of early summer melancholy. What?! Who gets such a thing? It’s so irritating and I cannot pinpoint the origin of the agita. I tested negative for Lyme, so I’m seeing if some adjustments to my diet and sleep and (most importantly) exercise will help my lethargy and my mood, which are intertwined. While I’m fine much of the time, there are moments when I can’t tell if I’m tired or down.
So, as I wait to see if those tweaks will have some affect, I’m doubling down on things that bring me joy. Except chocolate. Well, maybe just a little chocolate.
1. Flowers, of course. I’m clipping whatever blossoms I can and arranging them in my little glass vases.
2. Books! The other night, I stayed up too late (so much for my sleeping habits!) finishing The Martha’s Vineyard Beach and Book Club by bestselling author Martha Hall Kelly (who also happens to be my Vineyard friend Polly Simpkins’ sister!). I was long overdue for a page-turner, and it was such a treat to immerse myself in this story, which is both a family drama and a (double) mystery, told by three women – two sisters during World War II and a young woman in the present day.
The story takes place on the Vineyard (mostly up-Island, on a farm, so all very familiar to me) and is loosely based on Martha and Polly’s mother, who grew up on the Island. The Vineyard details are so authentic, and Martha nails wartime Martha’s Vineyard.
I will just tell you that there is romance, espionage, heartache, encounters with high society (and New York publishing), mysterious strangers, a book club (of course), and much more – and leave it to you to read the book for yourself!
3. Styling. Right now my favorite Substack is British author India Knight’s Home. Not only do I find India’s witty, wily self-deprecating-but-smart voice reassuring and entertaining, but also her current focus (from her rural home in Suffolk, England) on nurturing personal style feels very timely for me.
With the renovation of our kitchen (another update in a future post), my husband is suddenly seeing the light on a fresh look for the house – and I even convinced him to roll up the heavy, lawyerly, dark Persian rug that has been dominating the living room since I arrived seven years ago.
So when I heard that India has written a new book – Home: How to love it, live in it, and find joy in it – based on her Substack, I pushed the pre-order button immediately, even though I have no business doing so! But I find that dreaming about decorating is soothing for me.
4. Art. There are two spots in the kitchen that are calling out for art. One in particular could use one big piece. I want to add color and warmth to the kitchen and I’m moving toward a palette that will take my favorite seaglass colors and pair them with more saturated versions of themselves. But I’ve also been indulging myself with fantasies of wild color – the pinks and oranges I love. Those would be too much for my husband, but I’ve had fun with a bit of nostalgia.
My mother was very into modern art and I often went to exhibits with her when I was growing up. I began to wonder what ever happened to two framed prints I had in my bedroom – one of Andy Warhol’s Flowers series and another from a Matisse Cut-Outs exhibit. So, I went online for some color therapy.
I also briefly wondered how I could talk my sister into giving up mom’s signed Clayton Pond serigraph The Toilet in My Studio on Broome Street. The colors are so great. But a toilet in the kitchen might not be amusing!
5. Dinner out. I never go out to dinner with girlfriends during the week, but I did last Wednesday. We went to a new spot in Oak Bluffs called Black Joy Kitchen, where the chef travels the cuisines of the African diaspora and other corners of the world so deftly that everything feels like a party in your mouth. These are flavors we do not usually experience on the Vineyard! Delightful. And very good for getting me out of myself.
6. Comfort food. I developed this recipe for Bucatini with Creamy Tomato Pan Sauce for the Cook the Vineyard newsletter using fresh bucatini from Island pasta-maker Katie Leaird. It was so comforting, we could have eaten it for days.
7. Fog walk. I took a long walk with my husband in the fog down to the pond. Dreamy. Daisies, cows, sheep, new hay, wild viburnum blooming, slow time. Everything good.
8. Planning. I helped my stepson plan his first vegetable garden. He’s an engineer so he sketched on graph paper while I answered his questions and made suggestions about where things could go, how far apart things should be, what would have to rotate next year, what varieties of herbs to buy. By the time we were done (in only about 30 minutes), he had a detailed plan. I sent him home with tomato plants. It was very gratifying.
9. Planting. I pretty much finished planting the small garden (the current fenced vegetable and flower garden) and my husband and I, after a soil delivery, created our first (50-foot long!) bed in the big garden. The rest of the big garden has a cover crop on it – sort of. Our field peas germinated heavily in some spots and not so much in others, thanks to four inches of rain. But not too bad, all in all. And I’m truly excited about using that big bed for an overflow of dahlias and other plants in the hoop house.
10. Farmers’-marketing. Saturday was the first day of the season for the West Tisbury Farmers’ Market. Ordinarily, I find the market challenging because it is a big social event. I know most of the vendors and then run into a lot of other people I know, so it is hard to get through it quickly or to just shop as I would (anonymously) at a farmers’ market anywhere else! But today I went at the very end, managed to get around almost the whole market quickly, and had four nice conversations with people I like a lot. And got back in the car. Yay. And remembered once again that getting out is good for me.
Maybe I’m exaggerating in my headline when I use the word “cure.” The darn thing about irregular endorphins is sometimes you can do everything possible and still they drop. But there’s no doubt that focusing on fun, creative, interactive, outdoorsy, and delicious activity is distracting. For that – and the time to do these things – I’m grateful.💚
The first time I had Lyme I tested positive. The second time not. But my dermatologist (!) said the tests don’t work that great and prescribed me doxy, which cured my rash.
Thanks for the book rec!