And now the fires have started. Vast tracts of land are burning in Oregon and Washington. Old growth forest is turning to ash; trees that are older than anyone living today are vaporizing in the firestorms and we haven't even gotten to August--the worst month for heat and fire.
My house--greenhouse effect in full force--has made doing even the simplest task seem monumentally difficult. I'm watering in late evening, only walking the dogs in the mornings and definitely no afternoon strolls to the mailbox. Sleep is a fond memory--the humidity rising with the temperatures--and what little I get leaves me fitful and headachey.
I tried to write the next installment in the serial yesterday, but just the movement of my fingers on the keyboard had the sweat dripping. So, rather than struggle and curse...I stripped down to bare bones, put on a thin cotton shift, made a tall glass of iced tea and laid on the floor next to the big box fan to read a book.
It's also hard to muster up an appetite for anything other than sorbet or smoothies. Although, I discovered this amazing cheese the other day at the store, bought some Italian salami and crackers, and have been munching this light fare for dinner all week--of course washed down with very cold Lambrusco.
The cheese is made in a small village on the Oregon coast. I was drawn to the name, but now have fallen in love with the product. It's very garlicky with an excellent medium cheddar tang that blends just right with the salami. Perfect meal when it's almost too hot to breathe. And so far, no vamps...
The BFF and I have finally worked out details for a visit. Next month I will drive north to my sister's; she has--graciously, wonderfully, I will owe her big time--offered to doggy sit the boys whilst I fly further north into the wilds of Idaho, just shy of the Canadian border. I'm flying to save hours of time and money: I can fly for half the cost of several tanks of gas and almost two days of driving which will give us more time together. August is probably the worst time for such an adventure, but it was the only month my sister, the BFF and I could mesh our schedules before Idaho gets snowed in for the Winter, usually around Hallowe'en.
I can't wait to see her. Though we talk almost every Sunday, I haven't physically seen her in about six years; the time before that it had been nearly ten. It's strange and very cool that we have remained so close while never actually seeing each other. We're trying to change that, especially now that I'm back in the States, and I'm hoping she'll come my way next Spring.
I'm leaving the laptop, tablet, my phone and wee dogs behind. It will be just me, my camera, my best friend and the wilderness. Oh, and lots of Glenlivet. Our friendship began over a bottle of that lovely, smooth whiskey and ever since, whenever we get together, Glenlivet is in the glass.
Well, the sweat is dripping and my brain is beginning to percolate, so I will leave you, dear readers, with this picture of a cotton candy sky. I took it last night from the front porch; the actual sunset was off to the right of the shot, but I liked this view better...