Fifty years ago yesterday, I graduated from high school.
Weather forced the ceremonies indoors. When I walked across the stage, my diploma was handed to me by my father, who was president of the local board of education at the time.
Under my cap and gown, I wore a spiffy (for 1975) new suit and a new Bulova watch.
Moments like that are life’s milestones. I’m grateful to be around 50 years on to look back at this one.
The hearty loaf I picked up on discount at the Walmart bakery Saturday doesn’t include the preservatives typical of mass-produced bread. I knew I’d have to use it quickly.
It found its way into two meals that day. Yesterday morning, I made toast and savored the last of the huckleberry jam. Perfect.
Sunday was warm (89°F) and mostly sunny, which gave me another chance to experiment with ways to keep the cabin tolerably cool while I save up for insulation.
The sun turns the walls into virtual radiators — the inside of east wall has been as hot as 93°F by noon, and I’ve measured the west at over 112°F later in the day. I can manage 90°F with ventilation (fans, that is). I’m hoping that faced R13 (which is what I can afford) will keep it closer to 80°F.
I’m kinda gettin’ the hang of it. One box fan pulls cooled air out of the bedroom, through the bath-laundry, and into the kitchen. A second draws air from the north wall and blows in the opposite direction.
Pictured above is the northeast window, located in the living room, at about 11:30am CDT. The morning sun is still shining in. About an hour after the sun leaves that windowsill, I’ll open the window six inches or so to admit shade-cooled outside air.
Like I said, I’m figuring it out. It’s a process. And it’s not easy — not for me and not for the dogs.
Caring for the dogs occupies half my time (and that’s a conservative estimate). They’re my truest friends and most faithful companions, and so they get whatever they need.
My old girl Scout requires almost constant attention. She’s weak. She’s tired. I pick her up and carry her outside for business trips. Though occasionally she falls, she can walk pretty damned well given a level surface and proper traction. Most important, she wants to.
And then I carry her back to her bed in the cabin. Sometimes, when she’s truly exhausted, I steady her at the water bowl so she can drink as much as she wants.
Is she “suffering”? Well, she doesn’t feel like she did when she was ten, that’s for sure. But she’s happy, she eats and drinks, and she displays flashes of the ornery puppy who stole my heart almost 15 years ago.
Scout’s spark still glows. Her spirit thrives. She’s determined to finish her race, her way.
Miss Smudge, on the other hand, is strong and feisty and everything a two-and-a-half-year-old Heeler should be. She keeps me entertained and on my toes.
We’ve been having an issue with obedience lately, however. I keep her leashed more than I’d like. We’re working through it.
Best of all, I see a side of my Redneck Malinois that no one else ever will. Smudge is attentive and affectionate. And she’s become my best-ever bed buddy.
I have no problem saying that both dogs are lucky to have me — especially Scout, especially now. They’re never inconvenient. I never complain to them or about them. Smudge and Scout are a joy I embrace and a commitment I’ll never break.
In case you’re wondering about the light fixtures, my electrician postponed ’til today. He’ll swing by on his way home from work.
My view up The Mountain from the back yard, around 5pm yesterday.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable