Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Fixes, Fires and Fawns

I need a holiday...seriously, a very, very long one.  I'm still working endlessly on the House Chores From Hell list--for what seems like most of my adult life at this point--and though I'm making progress, there hasn't been much time to blog, read or have any fun these past few weeks.

I managed to spend some quality time on the roof last week, scrubbing out the gutters.  Got them clean and washed, then sealed the splits in the bad corner joins, and now just need to sand under the eaves and repaint, though perhaps not this week as the temperatures are soaring: today is 105*, tomorrow 108*...and no let up in sight.

In another attempt to cool the house from the relentless heat of Summer in southern Oregon, I've covered the laser beams--aka the skylights--with sliding shades.  Nick's idea and a really, really good one, too.  We spent last weekend installing three in the great room and almost immediately, I could feel the difference in the Greenhouse Effect.

One of three skylights that blast nuclear rays into the house...and Nick balancing on the 10' ladder getting ready to install the first shade....




Of course, each window was just slightly askew so it took lots of maneuvering and shimming and general cursing to get all three shades in place, but we did it.  And wow, Nick did just an incredible job...

New shade closed, blocking the orb.  And new shade open, though that won't be happening again until about October.


With the temps so high for the foreseeable future, it's really wonderful that we got the shades installed just in the nick of time (yes, pun intended...)

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Got up this morning with a clogged throat and a burning nose.  I woke up in the night with cool, fresh air blowing in my open bedroom window, so I was really concerned to smell that now-familiar acrid bite of smoke.

Last night, crystal clear, almost full moon, millions of stars overhead.

This morning...and somewhere down there in the valley is my little town, engulfed in smoke.  I quickly got on the internet to see where this latest forest fire was burning and discovered it's in the deep wilderness just 20 miles or so east of me...holy crap.


Have I mentioned that Summer is my least favorite time of year?   And it isn't even August yet, the real fire month.  Ugh.

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Just when I think I can't hack it up this mountain one more day, or deal with another scorching Summer...this happens:  Wee little Bambi babies start appearing, all wobbly legs and fawn spots and big ears, and I wonder how I can go back to city living.

Though, that might be the heatstroke talking...


Monday, July 13, 2015

Midsummer Madness

I think it pretty much goes without saying that my blog posts have been very hit or miss lately.  And it's not just because of Nick's presence in my life, but the load of work I've been doing around the house this Summer.  And truly, without his help, I would have long been overwhelmed by now and probably not be posting on the blog until Hallowe'en.

I've spent the last week or so trying not to have a meltdown in the heat and humidity, whilst still making some kind of effort to power wash both decks and the gutters.  I'm going to forget staining the decks--that hasn't worked and I'm tired of endlessly doing the same work over and over every damn Summer--so I'm going to try the Deck Over stuff which is sort of like paint and stain in one application.  The only bad thing is, the decks have to be super clean and any defects have to be fixed beforehand.  I have a few boards that will need to be replaced--according to Nick.  Frankly, I would just leave it, but he's too professional for that.  In the long run, I can see his point, but while my brain fries in the relentless heat, I find myself not giving a tinker's damn.

There are some splits in the gutters at three corner joints which have to be washed, wirebrushed and cleaned before I can apply the sealant, then the fascia boards will have to be sanded and repainted because the dripping rain (what rain??) has bubbled the paint under the eaves. Thankfully, the gutters that need fixing are easily accessible.  With no shade from the nuclear orb, I've been forced to work in the early or late parts of the day which means that project is dragging on and on.

And I'm still forging ahead with The Purge, though that's going much slower than I expected.  I mean, really, how hard is it to sort through closets, drawers and cupboards?  Very hard, as it turns out. When I finally get a good bunch of boxes and bags filled and stuffed into the car, I have to haul everything to the Goodwill.  The other day it was close to 100* and no one was manning the area where you drop stuff off, so not only did I have to load the crap, I had to unload it too.  A big bonfire in the backyard would work for me about now...except for the drought and fire danger.

Working while sweat pours down my face, soaks my shirt and makes me cranky is becoming normal these days--and totally not something I'm happy about.  Each task seems to take longer and be fraught with problems, shorting out my temper--and the will to live--while I dream of cooler days, chilly nights, flannel shirts and jeans.

Ah well...this too shall pass.  Right?

Thursday, July 2, 2015

The Speed Of Life

Another wild week has sped by since last I wrote a post.  Honestly, I don't know if it's the heat, or all the work and chores I've been doing, or...what exactly.

Last Thursday I had to move some of the furniture--crammed most of it into the back bedroom--because the carpet cleaning guy was coming first thing Friday morning.  Nick helped me move the big stuff, then after he left, I spent a couple more hours rolling up rugs and stashing numerous smaller items in all the closets before collapsing in a sweaty heap of too hot and tired to do another thing.

So, up at 6:30am Friday, I vacuum the house for the next hour and a half and barely had time for a cup of coffee before the guy arrived.  Still, getting the carpet cleaned was at the top of my Things To Get Done By Fall and I couldn't wait to cross that task off the list.

Friday turned out to be 103*.  It nearly killed the carpet guy, though thankfully he managed to do an excellent job before he began to croak.  I plied the man with endless glasses of water, and fortunately all ended well with the carpet now looking brand new.  I'm pretty sure he was really sorry to be scheduled to work that day.

The new fittings arrived on Saturday for the last three lights in the kitchen and Nick got them installed in a matter of minutes.  I love the clean, clear look of the glass shades; they sparkle like crystal and make me smile.  It's amazing how just a few little fixtures can change a room so much, and with minimum expense if they're on sale.  And you know a guy named Nick.

Then, as the day wore on, Saturday became utterly unbearable...for breathing, moving, eating. Being alive.  The heat was brutal; the burning asphalt road to Hell sounds about right.  By early evening, it was so humid, my hair frizzed.  I don't have the kind of hair that frizzes.

The Arts Festival--a once-a-year event that's usually really fun--was taking place all weekend and we'd planned to go, but it was just too flaming hot. I felt bad for the craft and food vendors...but especially for the bands trying to play music in the swelter.

Sunday...more of the same: heat, humidity, brain fry.  Nick and I went out to lunch, then sat in his backyard under some trees where there was a tiny breeze.  Or maybe it was just me wheezing while my lungs tried to inhale water instead of air.

This huge Monarch butterfly wandered past, picked a leaf and didn't move for the rest of the afternoon.  So, it wasn't just me then...


I don't have a clear picture about everything I've done between Monday and right now, but I have managed to keep busy on the chores list and even finished the closet sorting that I started two weeks ago, and all the drawers and cabinets in the bathroom, and loads of other stuff that I can't remember, thanks to the mind-melting heat.

Long holiday weekend ahead, and although several plans are on the table, Nick and I haven't decided what we're doing yet.  My vote is to fly to some Norwegian fjord and throw myself into the icy cold water but at the moment no one else seems interested in that brilliant idea.

So, dear readers, in case I lose myself in the space/time continuum again...or melt into a gooey human puddle as the heatwave rolls on...and on...

Have a safe, wonderful and Happy 4th of July...

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Cars, Kitchens and Chaos

So, Nick says to me on Saturday afternoon that he saw these really cool light fixtures at Lowe's that could replace the ugly and terrible (my words, though I'm sure he was also thinking them) 20-year old track lighting spotlights in the kitchen.  We decide to go on Sunday and since it's easier to pick him up on the way, I drive to his place around 11:00 the next morning, we spend a few minutes dinking, then get in the Blazer to head for Lowe's.

The car won't start.  Dead as a doornail.  (And hey, what exactly is a doornail...???)**

I look at Nick, he looks at me, then he gets out of the car, lifts the hood, does some tinkering and discovers my battery is a complete goner.  I had no red light warning, saw no change in the gauge, but the thing is toast.  As I'm slightly stressing about the situation, Nick says, "Well, the car couldn't have died in a better place."  And because he's totally right, I just resigned myself to the inevitable and let him rescue me...again.  Course, he knew right where to go for the new battery, even got me a discount, and an hour later we're back on track and off to Lowe's.

[Have I mentioned already that I'm anticipating imminent dumpage?  Seriously.  The Blazer has run like a dream for years--yes, with regular maintenance--and yet in the past two+ weeks, I've Nick has replaced the water pump, running boards, and now the battery.  I'm telling you, dear readers, it's only a matter of time before he decides enough already.  Cripes...]

Anyway.  We get to Lowe's, and although I've just spent the light fixture money on the new battery (holy crap they're expensive these days!), he was right: the lights are really great...and they're on sale. So what the heck, I buy three--to go over the kitchen sink and counters--and with his usual attitude of no time like the present, we have lunch, get back to my house, and...

My wonderful new lights...








There will be three more on the other side of the kitchen to light up the stove and counters, though Lowe's was out of the hanging part of the fixture so they had to be ordered and won't be in until next week--a delay I'm fine with because, honestly, what with all the car rescues and stuff, I'd really like the man to just come to my house and not do any work.

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The West Coast is having a record-breaking heat wave, running from Anchorage, Alaska to San Diego, California.  That's 3,750 miles--give or take--of blistering heat, forest fires and temps in the high 90s and low 100s.  Friday will hit 103 here, in southern Oregon, then for the next three weeks, most days will hover right at the 100* mark.  It gives me brain fry just to think of it.

It's too weird having deep August temperatures in June.  My only hope is that by actual August it will be October weather as we seem to be at least six weeks ahead of normal this year. Unfortunately, I fear this could be shaping up to be the Summer The West Coast Burned.  I don't know when the unrelenting drought will end...or maybe this will be the new West: deserts, dust devils and fire.  It's frightening.  And probably not the time to be living on a mountain, surrounded by forest...just my luck.

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Still.  While I'm laying on the cold Italian tiles in the kitchen for the rest of the Summer as it swelters and scorches outside...I can admire my beautiful new light fixtures.

And dream of autumn days and warm soup, cozy socks and flannel jammies, pumpkins and falling leaves.  Sigh...

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** Okay, peeps, you know I had to look it up.  




Doornails are the large-headed studs that were used in earlier times for strength and more recently as decoration. The practice was to hammer the nail through and then bend the protruding end over to secure it. This process, similar to riveting, was called clenching. This may be the source of the 'deadness', as such a nail would be unusable afterwards.








(Answer and photo courtesy of todayifoundout.com)

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Hey, Pop...

Happy Father's Day to all the great, kind and loving Dads out there...no matter what form they take...



P.S.  I'll be thinking about your smile today, how your blue eyes twinkled when you'd laugh at one of your own corny jokes, and I'll always remember your welcoming hugs every time I came home to visit.  Miss you, Pop...

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Last Week Was A Doozy

About two weeks ago, I stubbed my big toe...really, really bad.  Just as it was getting dark one night, I stumbled on the front deck steps after saying goodbye to Nick, managed to catch myself, but still teetering, slammed my foot into the riser.  Agony, a lot of whimpering, I hobbled up the last several stairs to the front door and fortunately looked down before I walked onto the carpet.  Blood is pouring out the top half of my big toe and running over the side of my flip flop.

Holy crap.

I do a quick scan up and down the mountain road, then take off my shirt and wrap it around my foot so I can get across the carpet to the kitchen without leaving a CSI crime scene trail in my wake.  Up on the counter, foot in the sink, water flushing the wound so I can assess the damage. Damage I don't want to look at, let alone assess, but I suck it up, get everything clean...and realize I've nearly ripped the nail clear off.  I'm not sure what to do, so I wrap the toe in gauze and tape in the hope that the nail will somehow miraculously reattach itself.

Then I stub the dang thing at least twenty times over the next ten days requiring endless bandaging and mollycoddling.

Monday, last week, out of the shower, drying off, I look down at my foot...and what in flaming hell is wrong with that nail?  It's...**gulp**...twisted somehow, like almost turned sideways. Eeewwwww.

Long story short, skipping gory details:  I had to pull off the nail.  To the base.  The process was wretched and ugly and yes, there were tears.  And although it was one of my top five yuckiest moments to date, within hours of being nail-less, my toe felt better.  No more throbbing, no more painful swelling, just blessed relief...

Tuesday, I went grocery shopping, came out of the store and found that someone had backed into my Blazer and wrecked the running board on the passenger side.  Bits and pieces were laying on the ground, though thankfully the running board saved my car from getting bashed which would have been way more aggravating.  With Nick's most excellent help, I found some replacement running boards online, delivery expected by Thursday.

Wednesday, hot and miserably muggy day.  Stuck in traffic, A/C roaring, I'm at one of the worst intersections in town (a 12-way which is beyond-description horrible) when my water pump decides to implode.  Chaos ensues as you can imagine, dear readers, what with the soaring temps, the traffic, my rising anxiety and imminent heatstroke.

And honestly?  If I were Nick about now, I would dump me at the first opportunity because, yet again, he comes to my rescue. We get the car towed back to the house, then he takes me to the car parts place and we order a new water pump.  Coincidentally, both the running boards and the pump are delivered on Thursday.

I was feeling guilty about Nick doing all this work for me, but he told me not to worry, we'd have fun doing the car together.  I was still protesting when he left Thursday evening.

Friday, I get up, turn on the laptop and get this email/photo from Nick...



Caption read: "Help comes in all shapes and sizes"

He was leaving for work that morning and saw this spider hitching a ride on the back of a very large snail.  I laughed out loud...and smiled for the rest of the day.

So.  We did indeed spend the weekend inside the engine and underneath the Blazer and it was fun. Now my baby runs like a dream and has shiny new running boards, too.

I'm gonna owe Nick until the end of time.

And I don't mind one bit...

Monday, June 8, 2015

Man, Oh Man...

...what a great weekend.  The weather at the coast was outstanding, in the mid-70s, brilliant sunshine all day, once the early morning fog dissipated.

And riding the dunes?  I'm officially hooked.  It was wild and crazy and exciting, and I laughed like a lunatic from start to finish.  There's something about climbing a vertical dune, then plunging down the other side in a rush of wind and sand while hanging on for dear life that's just indescribable.

Nick said at one point, when we stopped so I could take some photos, that he'd never known anyone to laugh so much in the face of death.  I swiveled my Darth Vader helmet head and said, "Death?" He smiled and said, "Nothing for you to worry about, but there were a couple of dicey moments going over that last ridge line."

"Which moments?" I ask, suddenly concerned that I was clueless about the possibility of my imminent demise.

He just grinned, said he had years of experience, reassured me he wouldn't let anything bad happen and told me to just keep laughing.  I took him at his word and had the best couple of days a woman could ask for.

I didn't take as many photos as expected--too much fun racing up and down dunes all day--but I still got some good shots.  Here's a smattering...


We were racing toward the water so I could get photos of the Coos Bay bridge.  I have a thing for really dramatic bridge structures and this 1930s cantilever bridge--on the National Register of Historic Places--is a beauty.  So we had a great three mile run, even catching some serious air a time or two.

Off in the distance (middle of picture) is the bridge...



For an idea how high up on the dune we were when I took the bridge shots, notice the SUV below us...


On our way back to the truck at mid-afternoon, Nick did some fancy swirls and spins around these dead trees, then I asked him to stop so I could get a shot of the stark reality of the dunes...sea grass, dead trees and endless miles of sand...


Sunday morning we got a very early start.  Had breakfast at a little Mom and Pop pancake place where everyone at the other tables started chatting with us, and before too long it was like we were locals.  Small town America at its best.

Then we drove to a different place to ride, crossing Coos Bay, and the bridge couldn't have been more wonderful in the early morning fog...

                                     

All around the dunes, there are these pools of water, brought by the rain and fog.  Dozens of oasis(es?) tucked willy nilly at the bottom of several dunes, some hidden and hard to see, others large and deep.

Again, we stopped at the top of a dune.  Below us, skirting the water in the center of the shot, is a lone rider and in the far distance behind the trees, fog is rising off the ocean.  We drove to the sea, but it was too damp and foggy for pictures...


Another series of pools...


We stopped for lunch at an Airstream trailer turned into a most excellent diner and while Nick talked to some guys interested in his modifications to the Maverick, I wandered toward the bay and took this last shot of a gull as he flew next to the railroad bridge.  Love the Bay bridge arches in the background.


It would have been great to get more photos, but the weekend was more about riding.  And though there were apparently some death-defying moments, I was having too much fun to care.

A perfect weekend, then.