Being here at Mom’s home and witnessing the thermostat follies fascinates me.
Back in my visit’s first few days, it was chilly, often rainy in the morning or at night. With the thermometer showing 75 F in the house, she and her partner would discuss ‘why it’s so cold’ in the house. I would be consulted but I was overly warm. I didn’t think it cold. My 89-year-old mother would put on a sweater but then ask for the temperature to be raised a few degrees.
It’s 77 degrees outside today, and in the house. Complaining about how hot the house is, she turned on the airconditioner and set it on 75 degrees.
Tuesday has been plated and is ready for serving. It’s August 15, 2023, in Ashlandia, where the ground is dry and the rivers are low. It’s currently 79 degrees F, but the thermometer’s final destination is 102 F for today. The indicators on my weather station hit 108 F yesterday afternoon but it looks like the official top was 105 F. The heat stayed until close to midnight, when it finally dropped into the mid 80s. Yes, air conditioning’s influence was sought when the house’s interior popped over 85 F in the evening.
I watched lightening shyly flickering and dancing on our southern border with California. This was just after midnight. Come 6:20, I thought, it feels like it’s going to rain. I imagined that as some slight barometric pressure changes felt, along with a tilt to the smell, coupled with experience of like times from beforedays. Over an hour later, 7:33, the drumroll began. Never got heavy nor fast, and lingered but five minutes, but the petrichor and sound were a welcome morning interlude in wet. Thunder accented a few seconds and brought Papi, the ginger wonder, to my side, as he is a firm disliker of thunder, but that ended before the rain. Now comes fire watch to see if any new fires have been discovered in the dry mountain forests.
Can’t say it’s a blue sky today. Conniving smoke and clouds are keeping that title at bay. But the sun and high pressure system are determined to keep it hot. This will last until Thursday, we’re told.
The Neurons have locked “Wasted” by The Runaways (1977) in the morning mental music stream. I haven’t been able to trace the impetus for this song. Don’t think I have heard it in decades. I remember being with a friend while in the US in the mid 80s. This song came on. A younger guy, he asked, “Who is it?” The Runaways, I answered. “Never heard of them,” he replied. “They kind of sound like Joan Jett.” That’s ’cause Joan Jett was The Runaways’ lead vocalist on that song. He was like, oh.
Time for liftoff. Stay pos, be strong, and look ’em in the eye. Coffee service has commenced. Make it black and pure for me. Here we go. Let’s start with the video. Cheers
And so the heroes arrived on Monday, July 3, 2023, after their exhausting journey through the treacherous months of May and June, coming at last to fabled Ashlandia, where the heroes are few and the animals are many.
Warm out there, and getting warmer. 94 F today, 97 F tomorrow. Which, for my household probably means 97 F today, 100 F tomorrow. A heat advisory warning us is out.
These are floof days. My cats just find a comfortable sleeping zone and stay there until around seven PM. Tucker has shifted himself to the back patio, by the house, on one corner, where a pleasant cool breeze sweeps by every now and again. Papi, more mysteriously, seeks out bedding under bushes on the house’s northern side, in the fence’s shadow. He’ll move to the front patio in late afternoon. But man, let me tell you, those cats are zonked out for that period. Water bowls are in front and back, ’cause I worry. They’ll partake, but they mostly sleep. Had a dream about them, too, but that’s another subject.
I have the Manfred Mann’s Earth Band cover of Bruce Springsteen’s “Blinded by the Light” (1977) running through the morning mental music stream. The cause was politically-oriented conversation with my spouse about the former POTUS, D.J. Trump. His supporters seem blinded by the light, IMO, unable to see any of DJT’s faults and shortcomings, just stumping for him, ignoring facts as they cheer and cheer. Just a strange sight to see. Of course, interviews with Trump supporters are often shocking, but the interviewer often seeks out the craziest of the crazy, painting a skewed portrait of DJT’s supporter. But, come on, when a man with his multiple marriages, children by various women, known sexist attitude, affairs, and stained business history is idolized as a saint, people will wonder, what happened to the supporters’ neurons? Where have they gone? Will they come back?
Stay positive, handle the weather and help others handle it. Remember to hydrate no matter what the heat or lack of in your locale. Coffee — which isn’t really good for staying hydrating but has such a wonderful smell and taste — ha, I sound blinded by the light, don’t I? — is served. Let’s rock.
The differences between them are growing after almost half of a century being together.
The Jack Spratt nursery rhyme goes, “Jack Spratt could eat no fat. His wife could eat no lean. And so between the two of them, they licked the platter clean.”
It feels to him like they’re living in a modern version of that, with heat substituted for food. She needs the high heat. He’s fine barefoot and in a light sweater, the heat at 66 F. They put the heater on for her even as she dons more and more layers of clothes, and he strips down.
It’s like, “Mike S doesn’t feel the cold, his wife could feel no heating. And so between the two of them, he sweats as she is freezing.”
It’s supposed to reach 99 F today. They’re telling us, tomorrow, it’s gonna get hot.
Today is Sunday, the 24th day of July in the common era year of 2022.
Our thermometers hover at 12 C right now, which is not bad. We’ll surge over 100 F tomorrow, and hang around that territory for the week, where much of the U.S. is already residing this July. Clouds have been peeled away, leaving a blue veneer that inspires paintings. Sunrise kicked off the daylight hours at 5:56 this morning. Night will commence after sunset at 8:38 PM.
“Tired of Toein’ the Line” by Rocky Burnett from 1980 is in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons put it there after a conversation with the cats. They seemed to be telling me that they’re tired of toeing the line, breaking out in zoomies and galloping in and out of the house, their response to me telling them that it’s gonna be hot so they need to take care of themselves and toe the line some to stay safe and healthy. Their demo ended when Papi raced in and threw himself down across from me. Fixing a steady amber gaze on me, he seemed to be saying, “That’s what I think of your line.”
Well, they were acting out but I’m sure they got the message. They’re not stupid, just independent and a bit mocking. Tucker is less so, being older.
While I heard the song, I had no clues about its year or performer nor even the title. I guessed at the last and suspected that it was related to 1980. I’d been thinking about that year. Living in San Antonio, it was the first time that my wife and I expected consecutive days over 100 F, and we went through twelve of them that summer. Had to search the net to bring it all together.
Okay, stay positive and test negative, keep cool and take precautions as needed to protect thyself and others. Gonna get hot coffee before it gets too hot out to enjoy, right? Here’s the tune. Do you know it?
Welcome to the Day of Frig, or Friday. Can you frig off on Friday? Does the expression ‘frig off’ owe anything to the Germanic Goddess, Frigg? Maybe she went about telling people that.
It’s March’s last day. Won’t be sorry to see the rear of March, 2022. Started out solid, but soured. For the record, the date is March 25, 2022.
Sunrise came in like it was half-asleep at 7:06 AM, although plenty of light was showing up much earlier than that. I always like that about this time of year, how the sun’s presence is announced in a false dawn almost an hour before. Sunset is due at 7:29 PM. It’s a chilly spring morning, 52 F, on our way to 67.
The heat didn’t come on this morning. It was chilly outside, yes, but we usually have heat. I checked and it was 66 in the house. The thermostat says ‘Heat On’, but I don’t hear any heating sounds issuing. I suspect that I’m to blame. I had to change the batteries in the thermostat yesterday — it’s a semi-smart one, with several different heating or cooling combos that that can be set for different periods of the day — and dropped it. Might have knocked some of its delicates askew. Either that, or it’s the stupid controller card again. The controller card has been replaced before, and this doesn’t exist the same symptoms. I’m better on the thermostat and will install and try a new one later today.
The morning mental music stream is aswirl with chaotic song fragments. I’m settling for a Jackson Browne song from his Lawyers in Love album of 1983. I believe I’ve used it before but I’m too lazy to look today. These lines hooked me as being the right theme music for today:
I know it’s late and you’re already down You ain’t ready for people around I’m gonna tell you something I found out Whatever you think your life is about Whatever life may hold in store Things will happen that you won’t be ready for
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as science dictates for the situation, and get the shots when needed. I’m almost ready to rock. Just need a little coffee first. Cheers
Today is Monday, July 12, 2021. The sunblast kicked off at 5:45 AM in the valley. Heat swelling will continue until 97 to 100 degrees F is struck, depending upon where you’re at and if you’re in the shadow of a mountain — or not — until we rotate away at 8:47 PM.
Finished reading “The Kingdom”, a thriller by Jo Nesbo, yesterday. Terrific novel. Kept me guessing about what was going to happen and managed to monopolize my time and energy. Besides, it was hot and smoky outside, with the air moving into the unhealthy zone. Still smoky today. Two wildfires are feeding us smoke, Bootleg (0% contained, 150,000 acres, started July 6) and Jack (11,000 acres, 10% contained).
With heat and fire on my mind, is it any surprise that Pitball started playing “Fireball” (2014) in my head? Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the cotton-picking vax, please. Here’s the music. Feel free to dance. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 