The forty dog days of
summer begins in the United States on July 3rd
and End August 11th
according to history and The Old Farmer’s Almanac. They’re so
often said to be the hot, sultry days of summer, July and August
being the two hottest months of the year.
The older generation had a
lot of sayings about Dog Days. One being, “it’s dog days and
snakes are blind, ye better be careful cause they’ll strike at
anything that moves.” We surely did listen to that one cause we
were reminded enough, especially while playing outside after dark or
catching lightning bugs.
Another one is getting Dew
Poisoning which means if you get a cut on your finger or hand and get
the morning dew in it the cut will never heal. My daddy got dew
poisoning one summer. He’d cut his finger with his pocket knife and
was picking beans one morning and got dew in it and he went around
all summer with his finger bandaged up and it finally healed come
Fall. Mama told him, “ye know what did that and ye should have
bandaged it up before ye hit the dew.”
I heard daddy and mama
say it was hard for a cut or any open wound to heal during dog days
many times. This pertains to anything even getting one’s ears
pierced. I got mine pierced in the summer months after I got up the
nerve to have it done. Mama told me, “ye shouldn’t have done
that. They’ll never heal.” I can honestly say she was right about
that. I had one to get infected and I thought it was going to rot
off. If it hadn’t been for lots of peroxide and alcohol and
babying, I would have given up and let them grow up. I still have to
baby my ears and bathe them in alcohol quite often. I very seldom
take my ear rings out except to change them.
There were a lot of
weather sayings as well and I don’t know if any of them pertains to
dog days but thought I’d add a few.
Here’s one,
If you’re hoping for a
nice, dry day check for dew on the ground
When the dew is on the
grass
Rain will never come to
pass
When grass is dry at
morning light
Look for rain before the
night
There’s also one that
helps to tell what the weather is going to be pertaining to cattle
and horses, which means if you see a cow or horse take notice of
which way the wind is blowing their tails. Cows and horses prefer not
to have the wind blowing in their faces so they usually stand with
their backs to the wind.
Tails pointing west
Weather’s at it’s best
Tails pointing east
Weather is least
Summer fog means fair
weather is on its way and you can look for a sunny day.
Summer fog for fair
A winter fog for rain
A fact most everywhere
In valley or on plain
And the one I like the
most is
If the rooster crows at
going to bed
You may rise with a watery
head
I just don’t know about
this one but my mama sure hated to hear one crow at bedtime. She’d
throw a rock at it every time just to get it to stop. She claimed it
meant bad luck.
Just a little folk lore
and I hope you enjoyed. I’ll try to post more later as they come to
me.
Thought I’d add a
little poem for some humor as well, concerning the fogs in August
because of the most heard one of all. “For every fog in August
there will be a snow come winter.” This one is kinda worrying me with August upon us cause we had quite a few fogs last August and quite a few snows.
I
counted forty, foggy mornings in August
an
old lady once said
I
wondered how can this be
as
I scratched my head
Thirty
one days in August
is
all I’ve ever known
unless
the calendar has changed
and
the months have grown
I
worked so very hard
to
try and figure it all in
But
the forty, foggy mornings
I
didn’t know where to begin
And
then I thought to myself
and
I came up with a good try
When
summer’s heat lingers on
there’s
forty, hot days in July
In
January’s snowy weather
there’s
at least forty flakes
that
lies on the ground
forty
days for goodness sakes
How
can I forget March
with
so many windy days
The
wind probably blows forty
I
just don’t count the days
No,
that can’t be right
I
thought to myself
When
thirty one days are gone
in
a month, there’s none left
So
I’ll just keep on waiting
August
is soon to end
If
there’s forty, foggy mornings
Will
winter ever end??
©
Susie Swanson, 2018