Heat Wave
On the south plains, 85 degrees doesnae count as "hot" but a 40 degree temperature hike still qualifies as a heat wave. To my gypsy senses, it feels like August is here. There are only two seasons in the sub-tropics: Summer and August. August is the lethal season here. I used to love the heat, but the hot flashes of menopause brought an end to that love affair. Even without the discomfort of hot flashes, sub-tropical heat can get Barbie, herself, envying my courage in shaving my girl crown so that I can remediate a hot flash with a wet rag. In the years straddling the millenial shift, it became my mission in life to emulate bird smarts: South for the winter, north for the summer. That hasnae been going as well as I dreamed. My hot flashes have passed and my hair has thinned considerable, but my scalp is still itching from the promise of sweat soaks to come. I sweat as prolifically from my head as John and Jane Q. Average sweat from their pits. There's nothing like sweat in your eyes to let you know just how salty sweat is. Blinding is an understatement. Even more blinding than a girlie girl's flowing locks.
Looks like I willnae make the migration to more sensible temperatures this year, either. Is it ironic that I am letting a non-migratory species of bird lead the way toward letting this job site become a home? The GK chicks sure do look happy in their makeshift broodery next to where I will assemble the 25 chicken coop when it arrives. Their wings are officially bigger than the bodies which are still mostly chick down. The tail feathers which will eventually nestle their wing tips are sprouting raggedly through the fanny down. Random feathers sprouting here and there are carrying clues to their adult colors. Just clues. Visit again next week to see what those clues reveal.
Hubs ordered his electric honey extractor this week. Finally. When he was just a cute neighbor, he shared a chap-book about beekeeping with me. 'Tis possible I married him to get that book into my library than anything else. It was more than 20 years before he finally invested in his first hives, but it was worth the wait. He didn't agonize quite as long over buying the electric extractor, but it has been quite a few honey harvests since he has been able to Huck Finn anybody into turning the hand crank for him. Buy, big daddy, buy. You need that electric extractor. Only 3 more busy season months until the next harvest. The look of agony as you force yourself to hand crank another set of frames is getting old, but not old enough for us to take pity on the unnecessary sacrifice.
Theoretically, the extractor should slide neatly into its reserved space in the honey barn extraction room. I love theory. It behaves so well on paper. We see what reality has in store when we unpack the crate sometime in the next few days. Maybe today.
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hi arfie! When reading this for some reason I think of the author David Sedaris. Have you read any of his work?
I like some of his stuff not all. I just thought you might like him. He as well is a "Memoirist" - chronicling the facets and detail
of his life... it can be really good reading.. very funny and amusing. Sending peace and good vibes. Mark
Nope, never heard of David Sedaris before the mini surf I did to understand your reference. The mini search told me he was coming into popularity around the time my graphics biz was crumbling and I was hitting the gnarliest of my psychotic breaks. Add in still young children crying for Mama and ? ? ? I missed allot in those years. Even NPR news and talk shows were therapeutically eliminated from my media intake. I was one triggery nut job during that era. Fast forward to geezerhood and reading ain't as easy and therefore not as fun as it used to be. The letters keep moving and blurring on me, even with good reading glasses. Sigh. . .
Thanks for the good vibes.
Having a sun allergy makes me shudder slightly at the memories of the heatwaves in your neck of the woods, Arfie. I recall all too well those waves especially in August, and those were the years when my youngest first started elementary school which was at the end of our block and that 3 in the afternoon heat of August was brutal even in the shade.
Perhaps you should hope one of the big river boats and head my way for a little cooler weather, lol. Even though we have the spring thaw in order, shockingly there’s still one or two shaded patches of snow in our back yard that have yet to flee.
It at least is a turning to warmer days which I am looking forward to as I can start my daily walks again, and finally begin moving certain projects back onto the porch which has much better ventilation than the basement. I’ve accumulated a small pile of the final pieces to several projects that have been awaiting warmer weather for the purposes of painting that cannot be done in the confines of a basement (such as the black lacquer spray coat for the backing of the display case in the dining room). Not everything can be done with a paint brush but works better with a spray can, lol.
Best wishes, Arfie & hugs!
How ironic is it that the harshest place I have witnessed for sun allergies is the alpine regions of the Andes mountains where the constant chill of the thin atmosphere makes it hard to remember that you are much closer to the sun with far less atmospheric protection? Even with the need for warm clothing, the skin cancer risk there is far greater than on the sweltering beaches or in the steamy jungles below. Still, even without the sun allergy, the threat of heat stroke is very real. Often the hardcore Texans who wish all the boomers would go boom themselves joke that the quickest way to deboom Texas would be to outlaw air conditioning.
Zero chance of finding one of those big river boats on the Great Plains or any of the environs south of it. The biggest state in the union has Zero navigable rivers. The Lower Mississippi River Valley and the River Region are approximately equal distance from here.
It’s a shame you’re not closer to the Mississippi as I’d offer you a nice cooling vacation up north.
I didn’t know that about sun allergies and the Andes but in a way it makes sense. Part of my issue is I also have a condition where my pores are very small and cannot dilate in dry climates. I have to have lots of humidity to survive any weather over 80 degrees. Still even with extreme humidity added to the heat and physical exertion, it hard for me to even break a sweat and the allergy has only worded since getting anaphylaxis. Now even humidity it’s as helpful as it once was.
Anyhow. Hugs & love, Arfie
It is, indeed, a multi-level shame I am not closer to the Mississippi. I even have a deed to pirate's den an easy paddle down the Ohio to the Mississippi. Remind me again what I am doing on the Southern Great Plains where creeks are named out of delusions of river grandeur. . .
I call one of my 5 sisters, "Vamp Sis," among many other things. It was a sun allergy which earned her that nickname. It doesn't take much sun exposure before she breaks out in huge, painful water blisters. I had to share a bed with her and those water blisters bled over everything when they broke in her sleep, so even my hyper, easy tan ass found other places to play nanny-nanny-boo-boo. It made both of us cry when she couldn't catch me.
Gentle empathy to both of you.