I try to stay away from politics in this blog, I really do. And those who know me well know how hard that is. But whichever side of the fence you live on, you’ll have to admit we’re having a heat wave.
A scary heat wave. Dangerous heat wave, especially if you’re of the older persuasion.
Mother was overcome by heat last Sunday after spending all day outside at a Lollar family reunion on Beaver Lake. (Julia and I were sweltering at the Bernice Garden farmers market, so I wasn’t there). Sunday night, she had what mimicked a heart attack from dehydration, and, as it turns out, pneumonia.
Scary heat lead to a scary few days in the hospital. She’s much better, but not well, and now we’re preparing to leave for cooler climes, but an emotional heat wave in the Yakima Valley of Washington, where John’s mother is having a crisis of her own.
Such is the life of a baby boomer these days, those of us lucky enough to still have a parent or two. Hard to leave a sick one, but what can you do?
Unlike Mother and me, who will tell anything if it could possibly help someone else, John and his mother are a bit more private, so I’ll just say his sister Kitty sent a distress call and we’re flying out in the morning.
Fortunately we couldn’t ask for a better dog- and house-sitting crew. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Now for a few random thoughts from a heat-addled brain.
• Isn’t it time for the nay-sayers to admit global warming is real? I remember being ever so concerned as a teenager about the hole in the ozone layer and what the future held. This week brought an ozone warning just about everyday. I could literally see the air yesterday as Julia and I downed bottle after bottle of Mountain Valley Water to survive the insane heat at the Argenta Farmers Market.
You can’t argue with science. It’s time to admit Al Gore was right. And if you don’t already, please follow Jack Johnson’s and Curious George’s advice: Reduce, reuse, recycle.
Every little bit helps. And we need all the help we can get. Eat local. Grow your own if you can. Drive less. You know the drill.
• Please look out for your old folks in this heat. It’s so easy to get overheated and dehydrated. If you’re older than about 70, that can mean disaster or death in a heartbeat, or lack thereof.
Bring your pets in and keep them watered. They can burn out quickly too.
• Julia and I are getting a real education in how strange humans can be. We really don’t mind if you don’t want to buy our stuff. It’s a free country, but our products aren’t. You don’t have to tell us why you don’t want an apron, how quickly your dog could destroy a toy or that you think something’s too expensive.
We don’t mind you looking and walking away – seriously. But we do find it a bit odd when you feel compelled to insult us. Fortunately, we follow The Four Agreements and don’t take anything personally. Or make assumptions.
Whatever. We just find it strangely interesting and eye-opening.
• But this heatwave is not interesting at all. And I’m afraid it may be more eye-opening than we’d all like to think. Wildfires in Arkansas?
•We won the homestead lottery with our new, darling young neighbors next door. We didn’t think we could stand losing Willie and Doris, who’d lived there close to 40 years when they decided they were of the age to downsize, but we struck gold with our neighborhood newbies.
John and I couldn’t be happier about being the old folks next door.