The overnight low Tuesday morning bounced off of the mid-70s. That’s as cool as we’d get, so that’s where we started.
Indoors, the thermometer in the kitchen read 74.3°F when I switched on the floor fan.
The AC in the wall, set at 73°F, already was a-chillin’.
Over the course of the day, it’d get as warm as 85.6°F indoors — quite comfortable, honestly, especially given a heat index over 20 degrees higher on the other side of the front door.
Okay, here’s the payoff to today’s headline and header image.
When I walked by that new-to-me air conditioner yesterday morning, I noticed a small amber LED glowing next to the temperature readout. It instructed me to “check filter.”
The alert must be based on runtime, not restricted flow, since I’d hosed-off the screen before assembling the unit a few days ago. Though I was tempted to just re-set the LED and get on with my life, I pulled out the filter and washed it in the kitchen sink.
While I was at it, I did the same for the bedroom AC’s filter screen (pictured).
What that did (in addition to giving me two fresh filters) was bring similar maintenance tasks together. Next time that alert pops up, I’ll know to clean both.
That’s the way my mind works. It’s an efficiency thing.
The Heeler and I grabbed some much-needed time outdoors yesterday before conditions became inhospitable. (It was in the mid-80s by 9am and the 90s before noon.) Naturally, we were on the lookout for wildlife worth barking at.
In the image above, Miss Smudge is looking skyward — but at what? A bird overhead? Squirrels in the cedars?
Nope. She was watching this:
Later, her attention was drawn to a hackberry emperor butterfly (Asterocampa celtis) on the ground a couple of feet in front of her.
I look where she looks, and often I see things I’d otherwise miss. Some of you know what I mean because you have kids.
Photography has helped my vision that way, too, for 50 years. It’s about noticing.
I’ve been asked many times over the last several months about how I’m dealing with the business of “purging.” The point of the question, if I understand it correctly, is to gauge the emotional toll exacted on me by having to confront (and eliminate, presumably) material things that remind me of the person with whom I spent almost 20 years — gifts of one sort or another, items of sentimental value, stuff that has a particular connection to the relationship.
In answering, there are two things to be addressed, or at least considered. One is material, the other emotional.
Physical possessions are either useful to me or they’re not. When I pick up a thing, I look at it simply as an object. If it can contribute to my life, it stays; if it can’t, it goes.
It’s the difference between a spatula and a birthday card.
And then there’s the emotional (or not) aspect of purging (or not). The way the relationship ended relieved me of any obligation to be sentimental about items that symbolize it or represent it. I no longer have an emotional attachment, and I feel no need to hang special meaning on inanimate objects.
It’s useful or it’s not. It stays or it goes. That’s all.
So if you imagine me going scorched-earth here and throwing out any and every thing that could possibly remind me of the last 20 years, you’d be wrong.
But what, you might wonder, do I do with my memories?
I believe a shrink would say that I’ve successfully “compartmentalized” them. I’ve put them in a room, walked out and closed the door behind me — but I didn’t lock it, ’cause there’s nothing there that I fear.
What’s more, I own those 20 years. They don’t depend on a link to someone who chose ultimately to remove themselves from my life. That time belongs to me.
I’ll give you an example.
Four years ago this September, as long-time readers may recall, I returned to Kintla Lake, Montana. It was a dream realized, the completion of a 43-year quest.
I wasn’t there alone. My memories of the day, however, don’t demand that I acknowledge the company I kept. I own that moment in my life.
And so it is with everything else. It’s a good place to be.
Smudge asked to go out early yesterday afternoon. It was about 1:30pm, I think. I pulled out my phone and checked conditions (pictured).
Yikes. It’s always pleasant down by the shed, though, and we’d have a cool cabin to come back to.
I’m not sure why I chose to take Smudge out untethered, but I did. I didn’t even bring the leash with me. It seemed like the right time of day to test her.
She passed. We had a ball.
Dashing into the woods to chase chipmunks and take care of her business, she stayed within sight of me. She was more responsive and more obedient than she’s been in ages.
The Heeler got happy. Good girl.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable