When it gets unbearably, blazing hot like this, I often think: Can I turn my day upside down?
Can I, say, go to bed at noon, sleep through the heat of the day, get up at eight, and then go about my day?
Just the thought exhausts me. There are so many drawbacks: None of my favorite restaurants would still be open, or be just about to close. There’s no way I would or should take a walk down a wooded road in the dark. Even with a flashlight, there’s no telling what I might run into. “They only come out at night,” an old Edgar Winter tune, runs true in the dark.
If there are bears I never see during the day, they’d sure enough think they were free to roam my path, sniffing me out, at night. And then, there’s the wildlife I never see, but just might spot in the dark: Bobcats. Foxes. Who knows what might be roaming about, enjoying their solitude without me disturbing their terrain.
I’d have to race to Covington to the library on Tuesday or Thursday night, when they’re open late.
And hey – one major thing: I’m too old to see well enough to drive in the dark. I discovered that recently, and always try to be back home by dusk, at the latest.
These past few days in the 90s have been difficult to get through. It’s really too hot to do anything. Even up here in the more mountainous area, where it’s always cooler, it’s been in the eighties. I sit out on my porch trying to read. But, unless it is a truly gripping novel, I discover that I’ve nodded off, because it’s too dang hot. I may doze off three times in an afternoon. There’s just no relief!
I still have not been able to find someone who can haul that old window air conditioner off the porch, and install it in my dining room, where it would cool half the house. By the time I might, it would be time to uninstall it almost as soon as I get used to it. If it weren’t so darn heavy, I’d have done it myself weeks ago. Or simply, hauled it out to the car and to the Dumpster. Who knows what creature(s) have taken up residence inside it?
Speaking of creatures, this is their prime time of year. The snakes are out, slithering everywhere. I know that because a huge black snake was coiled up in my bathroom windowsill the other morning. He had come in through the porch somewhere. Who knows how they get in? But, they don’t seem to be able to get themselves back out again. I had to call a kindly neighbor to deal with the snake. He did a good job. He wrestled it into a shovel, and then went across the yard and dropped it into the woods.
The trouble is, now I worry that he (the snake, not the neighbor), will find its way right back inside again. I keep myself alert to that fact, which is worrisome.
There may be some relief from the unbearable heat later this week. Then again, it’s only the beginning of June. We have three or even four more months of enduring this. I am not happy, and I am longing for crisp, fall weather. I am longing to shovel snow, rather than snakes.
Now that is something I’ve really gotta love!
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