Hot Weather Ramblings

 I'm starting to crumble just a little bit.  That odd calm that I've been feeling since 2024 began is starting to give way to a bit of fragility.

A lot of it is the weather.  The heat wave that's hitting all the country; already getting into the high 90's with indices over 100.  Even early in the morning the humidity is near 100% so even if it's not hot it's oppressive.  I do better mentally if I'm mostly outside - even if I'm not working, I'm sitting outside reading, or taking a walk.  But the heat is oppressive, and I'm getting "summer skin" - a breakout of bug bites and rashes.  And some of them get infected (if it itches, it's just a reaction.  If it's burning, it's an infection. The former get cortisone cream, the latter antibiotic cream).  Baths lace with baking soda also help.  The other day I was burning off the yard waste - I lasted three hours of cutting and dragging waste before it hit the point that it wasn't particularly safe anymore due to the heat.

It's hard to get my steps in (I"m 223 miles into my virtual 828 mile hike around Iceland).  It just sort of happens; like if I'm talking to Mike and Margo I'll also wander around the yard and pick up sticks and fallen branches to take to the burn pit, and in the course of a long conversation get a mile or two in.  Today - there was pacing up and down the hallway - not the same.

And it's That Time Of Year.  This cute picture popped up in my FaceBook memories - baby vulture.

Awwwwww.  Cute.  But my heart caught in my throat.  It was a memory from early June, 2019.  We had gone to the rehabber's to pick up some baby opossums. Normal times, for us.  But in a couple of weeks Bob would go in for his routine annual exam; in a month after this picture was taken, he would be given his death sentence.  

Five years now.  You'd think I would heal.  But the wounds are still bleeding.  I find that, once again, I've been staying up later and later (it's almost midnight now) just to avoid going to bed alone for the (Hey, Google!  How many days since March 30, 2020?)  1,546th time.

A poem floated by, and I caught it.

I missed you quietly today. So quietly that no one noticed.

I missed you as I climbed out of bed and as I brushed my teeth; when I waited at the lights on the drive into work and as I heard the rain outside my window.

I missed you as I ordered lunch and as I kicked off my shoes when I got home; as I switched off the lights and climbed into bed for the night.

I missed you without tears or noise or fanfare.

But oh how I felt it.

I felt it in the morning, at lunchtime, in the evening and at night. I felt it as I woke, as I waited, as I worked. I felt it at home, on the road, in the light, in the dark, in the rain.

I felt it in every one of those moments, each one sitting heavier and heavier as the weight of me missing you kept growing and growing.

Yes, I missed you so quietly today.

But I felt it so loudly.

(Ugh. A bug in Blogger - if you do a cut-and-paste, it changes the background and you can't get it back.)

One soldiers on. I've been laughing at myself - I've barely been able to walk for the last two days. Day before yesterday I spotted a new weight exercise - you do a squat to touch the weight to the floor, then stand and lift it over your head. Looked like a good allover workout. To get my body used to the motion and get the form correct, I used a five pound weight. Because it was so easy, I knocked out the three sets of 15 in no time flat.

No problem - at the time. But since then my thighs have been letting me know that they have not appreciated the 45 squats in 5 minutes. Ouch.

And is my life so interesting that I forgot to post this picture?

Yes - that is my hand holding a cougar paw. One of the cats at the museum had her annual physical and had been sedated, so we were allowed in to touch her.

I'll be OK - I just need to switch gears, from being outside to inside. Figure out how to deal with the cabin fever. I'll still be doing the museum work outside, but I will admit on those days I come home, grab a shower and lunch, and then crash for a few hours. Hopefully I'll acclimate soon (I keep telling myself that will happen, despite years of evidence to the contrary 😀)