Everyone has his or her own way of taking measure of summertime.
Heat and humidity are common yardsticks -- "This is the hottest July we've had in years," you might hear. You could insert "driest" or "wettest" or whichever weather factor is dominating the season.
My favorite yardsticks, however, are those related to eating.
As far back as I can remember, my family would comment on the quality of corn on the cob. "This is the sweetest corn we've had yet this summer," or, "This corn is much more tender than last week's." Price was also worthy of discussion: "Can you believe this corn was only $2 a dozen? I paid $3 just last week." Each week the corn would get sweeter, more tender and less expensive, and summer's progress would be duly noted.
We would have similar conversations about tomatoes. We would discuss their improving flavor as the season ambled on, with serious debates on whether this batch was as sweet as the last. The succulence of summer tomatoes grew to be such a treasure that I can't even eat those poor pink excuses that supermarkets sell in winter.
A related barometer is the date the first tomato appears in the backyard garden. My friend John O'Hazza of Sir Guy's Pub in Rehoboth Beach used to say that if you're lucky, you could get a red, vine-ripe tomato by the Fourth of July. That's in a good year, of course, when you can get the plants in early and the weather cooperates. Having fresh garden tomatoes by mid-July seems more likely.
You could keep track of summer's progress with Delaware's farmers' markets as well as any calendar. Local produce appears on a schedule that hardly changes from year to year. You can see it in rustic markets with names like Tomato Sunshine, Farmer Bill's and Handley's U-Pick.
The arrival of locally grown fruits coincides with all major summer holidays: strawberries at Memorial Day, peaches and cantaloupes by Fourth of July, and apples for Labor Day. (For a complete list of peak periods for Delaware fruit and vegetables, check this link to the state Department of Agriculture:www.state.de.us/deptagri/FMD/dates.htm)
Another edible measure of summer that I've discovered from my in-laws, the Smith family, is crabs.
Their earnest discussions about steamed blue crabs are much like my family's conversations about corn on the cob: "These crabs are much heavier (or bigger or tastier or meatier) than the ones we had last week," or, "These were only $20 a dozen." The conversations are less jovial during summers when the supply of crabs is far less than the demand, which can prompt such comments as, "I can't believe how small these crabs are," or, "Hey, every one of these crabs is female."
In any case, the discussions are similar summer after summer. Whether it's corn, tomatoes, crabs or whatever your family's edible measure might be, they always seem to taste better and better as the dog days wear on.