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Mad dogs and Englishmen...
... mow lawns in the noonday sun.
Actually, although the thermometer indicates 80 F, we have achieved drier Canadian air (with a whiff of woodsmoke from those Quebecois fires) and therefore the mowing wasn't potentially life-threatening. I even took advantage of the break to cut another limb out of the dying side-yard rowan tree.
I do not _know_ if having your house-rowan die proves a curse, or not. We planted it ourselves, maybe 25 years ago, and they don't live forever. It has self-seeded two replacements, so maybe that mitigates the curse. And probably all that hearth-magic only works in the British Isles, anyway.
Actually, although the thermometer indicates 80 F, we have achieved drier Canadian air (with a whiff of woodsmoke from those Quebecois fires) and therefore the mowing wasn't potentially life-threatening. I even took advantage of the break to cut another limb out of the dying side-yard rowan tree.
I do not _know_ if having your house-rowan die proves a curse, or not. We planted it ourselves, maybe 25 years ago, and they don't live forever. It has self-seeded two replacements, so maybe that mitigates the curse. And probably all that hearth-magic only works in the British Isles, anyway.