In the Olden Days Families took Refuge from the Heat in the Mountains

Oh how I want to take refuge somewhere cool. This hasn’t been the hottest summer ever…I remember when it was triple digits for 20+ days…that or more. But the variables have changed. I feel cooked in a tortuous way…meanly. Like I could collapse kind of heat. I don’t go outside that much—just to water the plant or check out the tomato crop. Is it my age that has left my body intolerant of the humidity and heat or is it more humid and hotter? I only know this—I go outside my hair and body is DRIPPING.

Len usually doesn’t say much about the heat. Last week I had a text from him. He wrote, “I am moving to Canada tomorrow.” I would go with him in a minute.   

We were going to take a road trip to North Carolina this month but it was bad timing so we postponed it and…that is another sign of the heat-induced ennui. We just can’t get energized.

I sleep with three fans on high and on ‘cool’ sheets. I even tried a ‘chillow’ but it was like laying my head on a frozen brick…not at all like the ‘As seen on TV commercials.’ Plus it leaked.

My body and soul are in alignment with the earth…disrupted, scared, and fractured by heat and overall gloominess. My new word for it—Putinesque. Putin looks like a pit bull. Actually, pit bulls are better looking. I think I will become fixated with Putin as my hate object. I am glad I live in the US because I probably would be arrested in Russia for saying that. After getting arrested the Ruskies wouldn’t send me to Siberia but to Death Valley or another hotter place.

Ok, how can I squeeze this in and get it correct? Susan’s brother Norm wrote this little ditty…or something like it….

C M Putin?

M N O Putin.

M R snake

C M’s B D eyes?

All of this–then losing Robin Williams. It just seems so damned sad. I need a purge in the form of a screaming’, cryin’ fit.


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