The last weeks of June here are taking a mighty swing at the “dog days” of summer. Temps are forecast to reach the low to mid-90s every day through the end of the month. Heat index numbers will flirt with 100°F for the next week, maybe longer.
Yesterday was predicted to “feel like” 105°F. I wouldn’t dispute that — it was a scorcher, outdoors and, unfortunately, indoors.
I didn’t want Miss Smudge to get stuck on the memory of her skittish Thursday. It was important, I decided, for her to begin building positive experiences, and I thought about ways to get her out in the truck again as soon as possible.
A quick curbside-pickup run, maybe? That wouldn’t break the bank, and my fridge and pantry could stand the fill-in.
Early, too — 8am, to beat the heat.
I got Smudge loaded up well ahead of time. We just sat there in the driveway, getting her acclimated. She was happy, unbothered, normal.
On the drive to Flippin, she might’ve been just a little anxious, but nothing like the day before. And as we sat in our numbered parking spot, she was her typical curious self, watching comings and goings in the world outside the truck windows.
When the nice woman who brought my order opened the back door, however, Smudge immediately went to the floor on the passenger side. She stayed there ’til we drove away.
Just like Thursday, she was fine on the way back to The Mountain. And she was glad to be home.
I call that progress. We’ll do more of it.
“I’m so sorry, Smudgie,” I said to the panting Heeler around 4pm. Though the bedroom, where we’d been holed-up for several hours, had remained tolerable until about 3:30pm, it suddenly became oppressive — and I mean almost instantly.
I didn’t take the temperature in that space, but the thermometer in the kitchen read 102°F.
The air conditioner six feet from the bed was having no effect. Fans did nothing but move super-hot air around.
Putting up more R-13 might help, but I don’t know if even that will be enough. And we have two more weeks of this heat wave — plus the entire summer — to get through.
To say it’s discouraging would be an understatement. I have no more money to throw at this, and I’m fresh out of ideas within my reach.
Unable to get comfortable in the cabin, I leashed Smudge and moved us to the closest cooler place I could think of — the always-shaded area in front of the shed. We hung out there for an hour.
Much better.
Around 7pm, the sun had dipped low enough in the sky that dappled shade began to fall on the west wall of the cabin. The temperature inside slowly started to recover.
I took a cool shower. I made myself a smoothie with extra frozen fruit. Smudge and I took a walk and returned to our chairs by the shed, just because it’s wonderful there.
By 8pm, the thermometer in the kitchen registered in the mid-80s. Believe it or not, that’s quite pleasant.
Sorry about the whining. I rarely subject you to pissing and moaning, so I feel like I owe you that apology.
Not to make excuses, but it’s been kind of a hard week.
I’ve put my whole self into The Mountain. I’ve never quit on it, and I won’t quit now. I’ll press on — that’s what I do.
This is my home.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable