Summer Park County Fair Moon
Swirling. The world, or at least the part of it connected to me and mine, has taken flight, gone up in the air like dust devils. BJ had surgery on her shoulder in the late afternoon yesterday in Jackson Hole. Kate said she liked the surgeon, which is roughly the same as saying he’s a rock star. The Hitching Post, a motel next to the hospital, has rooms for $45 a night if a family member is in the hospital. She’s staying there.
Jon is rushing to finish remodeling a bathroom, put on a deck and doing other fix-it chores at the Pontiac house. He has to be out of there before Jen and the kids return on Monday evening. A restraining order makes it so. The heat-and, ironically for this arid state, the humidity-have been high. It was 99 there yesterday when he and I ate lunch at the wonderful dining table he built.
Though, for those of you in the Gopher State who read this, I know it’s been pretty bad there, too. Both places remind me of Singapore in April when Kate and I visited Mary. We managed to hike across the Singapore Botanical Gardens on a day when the temperature was within one degree of an all time record and the humidity created a watery, heated bubble around us as we walked. Can anyone say carbon tax?
Timberline Painters finished staining the garage, shed, and two decks yesterday. One garage door is green, the other will follow. Interior painting starts on Monday. The dogs, who have to be inside while the painters are in the yard will be happy when this is done. Yesterday, while Gertie and I were in the loft, unbeknownst to me, the painters sealed off the door out of the loft with 3M plastic. The mammoth bone handle knife gifted to me by Tom Crane came in handy as I sliced through the plastic. Felt like I was being born again as I stooped through the small hole with Gertie behind me.
In Colorado, so far, it has been the summers of our discontent, the winters have been fine.
