Nature doesn’t bend to wishes, I know, but ‘long ’bout 10am this morning I caught myself hoping that this’d be the hottest day of the year. I don’t fancy dealing with worse than what we’d see today.
The heat index — aka “feels like” temperature — already was 100°F at that hour. Inside the cabin, I adjusted the AC and arranged fans to keep things as pleasant as possible.
Smudge and I were ensconced comfortably in the living room by 11am.
Unlike yesterday, which was miserably calm, on this blistering Tuesday we’d have a bit of a breeze — 5mph to 7mph out of the NNW. That’d be something, at least.
Looking ahead, the next several days will top-out in the 80s, with overnights in the 60s.
Staying on the bright side here, we’re past the halfway point of meteorological summer — the First of September is 42 days away. By the more traditional astronomical measure, the Autumnal Equinox is still two months off.
But the days indeed are getting shorter. Relief is in sight.
The joy of simply being here, living here, makes it all worthwhile. Sweltering heat or bitter cold, rain or drought or snow, it remains the life I’ve imagined.
I glanced back this afternoon over the photos I’ve shared with you so far this summer. Together they constitute a sort of scrapbook of what I’ve done, stuff that matters, the essence of my world.
If you’d asked me years ago to paint a picture of the kind of life I’d want to live if only I could, it would’ve looked a lot like this collection of images. A cozy home that suits me. Wild critters. Tramping the woods with a bolt-action rifle cradled in my arms. Home-cooked meals. A dog who loves me.
Solitude. Independence. Liberty. Peace.
I’ve said before that everything I’ve done over 60-plus years has been preparation for this American life. I stand by that, with one caveat — I was totally unprepared for the unbounded elation I feel each and every day.
Now, a few notes from summer days on The Mountain.
If I tallied up all of the mature trees that grew on all of the places I’ve lived over the years, from childhood ’til my move to Ozarkansas, it wouldn’t equal what stands within a hundred feet of this cabin.
Not even close. I live in the woods. This makes me happy.
. . .
. . .
Since creating a shooting range on the east slope in April, I’ve devoted a fair bit of time to polishing imperfect skills gone rusty. The process got me thinking that I should review my overall home-security plan, too.
It was stale — essentially, I’d adapted what I did in a couple of suburban environments to this new situation. I’d developed the scheme for a drastically different set of conditions, and with consideration for someone who’s no longer around.
So I re-thought everything, and I mean everything, from perimeter security to defensive tactics and the tools I choose. With OPSEC in good order, then, I addressed PERSEC as well.
I feel better about this now, more confident that my plan is a good match for these isolated, woodsy circumstances. Next, regular practice.
. . .
I call the image below, “Ultimate Snuggle.”
I’d just flopped onto the bed yesterday and was preparing to watch a 15-minute video that had been recommended to me. Smudge hopped up, too, stretching out alongside me.
It looks like she’s resting her chin on my hand, but actually her muzzle is buried firmly into the web between my thumb and forefinger. She put herself close to my scent and my pulse. A more touching display of affection I’ve never known.
Less than a minute after I took that picture, my loyal companion closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.
She stayed that way for a half-hour. I didn’t move a muscle. And I didn’t mind one bit.
Contentment. Trust. A bond like no other.
. . .
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable