Storms & Earthquakes

Quite the week for weather. If you can call a 3.2 earthquake weather.

I was asked if I felt it here in Southeast, and I had to say, I didn't. I was home, watching TV. And since I usually do notice the little house doing the magic fingers dance, I was surprised that I didn't notice it this time.

"What were you watching?" came next.
"Uh---okay, I'll tell you. Turner Classic Movies had on 'Faster Pussycat, Kill Kill', and I had never seen it before, it was rather absorbing."
"You're kidding."

It's good to get caught up on the cult film millieu, now I'll get the tossed off references to it, and it made me laugh. I just kept thinking, "My dad in his 20s would have loved this movie at the drive-in, I wonder if he saw it?" Cars, broads, racing, crime spree, ridiculous dialogue, really heavy eyeliner and cleavage from sea to shining sea. I get that from him, appreciation of the ridiculous I mean.

So I missed the earthquake. But the heavy summer thunderstorm last night was an utter delight. The build-up of humidity, the darkening horizon and distant flashes, the hovering silence in the trees, then the faint scent of mossy lakeside as first one then a dozen loud drops come down like ball bearings. There wasn't much wind, and only distant lightning and thunder, but we did have a great show from the second story windows, and a few washes of rain before it was all over. And you might expect it to cool off after the storm blew through, but it didn't until a few hours later, when some wind rose and carried off some of the heat and humidity of the day.
Freshly damp summer pavement. Nothing else smells like that. I slept like a brick.

Being cloudy and cool, I get a break from watering duties today, and the local weather dudes say the 100 degree days are over for now. Between the earthquake, heat waves, storms, fires, and ping-pong sized hail, one is looking skyward and expecting locusts, frogs, flies, and other biblical type special effects. I mean, I don't, but to hear people marvel at it, you'd think these things never happened at all until the last 10 years.
Of course, it all happened, we just didn't have 84 gazillion news sources yammering at us 24-7 to whip us up into a frenzy.

A sudden summer thunderstorm here in Oregon is unusual, and I enjoyed it. In the other hot place I used to live, they are violent, frequent, and cause unexpected flooding, and your power goes out all the time. We not only took them for granted, funnel clouds, water spouts and hurricanes made us all amateur meteorologists. Like here we all talk about gardening. Or coffee. Or microbrews. Or athletic shoes.

While I was out watering yesterday morning, a group of neighbors and their elderly visiting family strolled by, and they commented on the lush strip gardens by the street, and all the spent roses in everyone's garden. "What you folks here need is a good rain!" said one of the older men. "Not til September," I said.
I think I'm going to start rain dancing when I'm out with the hose. If I have on one of my tie-dyed t-shirts, you'll know it's me. Say "Hi!".

Day Two on Planet Demon Solar Inferno!

Day Two on Planet, 100-Degrees, Full Solar Array

Do all required missions and exploration of nearby alien villages before the demon solar inferno rises above a 45 degree angle to the horizon. While it is unadvisable to ingest the native fermented barley liquid while operating the valuable TerraLander equipment, it seems to be the preferred refreshing beverage among the aliens here in the most severe heat of the Terra Day. Must make notes for further investigation and possible experiments with this golden grain "water", that flows here like water does on our Home Planet. Instead of layering on more protective clothing to shield them from the demon solar inferno, the aliens reveal almost every fragment of their fragile skins, making almost a pretense of being clothed, whereupon they begin to burn, turn red and perspire what must surely be 100% "beer", the aliens' word for their fermented barley liquid. They appear to ingest little else during this demon solar season, and the shelves of their mercantile hubs are cleared of even the most inferior version of this "beer". As the demon solar inferno lowers below a 45 degree angle to the horizon, the aliens then proceed with another very curious custom, again specific to this heat season, of making flaming sacrifices to their gods, involving elaborate fire devices, slabs of sacred animals, fowl and even sea creatures, again accompanied by copious drinking of their ritual "beer". When their young are present, these sacrifices usually remain on the tame level, but when involving only sexually mature adults, utter mayhem predictably ensues, debauchery, staggering movements, unconscious jerking motions known to them as "dancing", and loud calls to nearby adult groups to "dragyerassover", whatever that may mean in the native dialect.
This planet does not appear to be technologically advanced to the level of inventing air conditioning, and seems content to suffer the demon solar inferno yearly, perhaps providing the aliens with a socially approved season of mass consumption of the chilled golden barley liquid in some sort of as yet not understood harvest festival ritual. Much further study is required here by the TerraTeamScientists to better understand this planet and its inhabitants, as well as some probable hands-on experiments with their curious substances they use ritually---for example:

bar-bee-cue sauce----blood-colored liquid poured onto the animal sacrifices-what does it mean?? More tribute to their demon solar fire gods?
mar-gar-ree-tah--pond water like liquid with crunchy salt crystals--why? which of their heathen gods does this worship?
poe-tay-toe-sal-id---easily prone to spoilage, this paste of ground-fruit chunks and various other vegetables in small pieces with a yellow and/or white gel of some kind is extremely popular, with local variations depending on regional preferences and how close the aliens are to discovering ice and other cold technologies. Usually containing eggs, must be some sort of fertility ritual food.

I will file the remainder of my daily report after spending more time amongst these aliens during this Demon Solar Inferno Day. One of the TerraTeam has to launch a ruthlessly thorough experiment with this golden barley liquid, and we are meeting in the lab to decide which of us will direct it. "Going Undercover in Full Disguise" will be required. As the demon solar inferno is climbing even higher on the horizon, I must sign off and begin my experiments for today. One is to construct a shade cloth to protect the fragile plantlings from the direct rays of the D.S.I. in our PlantLab, also to foray to the other TerraTeam outpost to feed and monitor the cats and plantlings at that PlantLab, and also to run a distance mission to the alien refugee mercantile hub where we have established a stealth location to monitor local alien buying habits and to acquire some of their currency. As always, the TerraTeam hopes the D.S.I. will not harm our equipment or sap all of our precious and endangered Terra Braincells and Neurosynapses. Perhaps the chilled "beer" provides some protection to the aliens in this regard.

Getting Ready For 100 Degrees

At least it's not humid, I keep reminding myself. And there are no hurricanes. Or thunderstorms and lightning, for that matter. But---there is no air conditioning, either. After having spent 7 summers here in Portland, I am still amazed at the lack of AC around here. Not complaining about my landlady here, I found a tidy window unit at Freds for under a $100, and it keeps me from jumping out the window at over 95.

I know I have to explain that in Florida, people have central air, maybe not heaters so much, but compressor units the size of municipal mailboxes behind their houses. The humidity makes this necessary, because I'd really rather not have to describe how mold and mildew take over if you don't have it. It's part of the modern house and shop or car, like having electricity or cash registers. It is not an option. All cars have it as a standard feature. Like a steering wheel. It dries the sweat you worked up just walking between the car and the door of anywhere you're going and keeps you from looking like a wet tissue paper party favor.

So my inquiring thought is---after at least 7 straight summers of weeks over 90 and days over 100 on a predictable basis, let's bite the bullet y'all and get air conditioning. What is the issue here? Is it energy usage? Okay, fair enough question. The Energy Star sheet that came with my low end window model says that it would cost only $34 a year if I ran it for 750 hours. That's 10 hours a day for 60 days, plus another 10 days at 15 hours a day. That would be from mid-June until the end of August. Not even close to how infrequently I use it in July and August, but for my personal comfort, it is well worth the one time cost of $100 and then $35 each summer to be comfortable when it's this hot. People spend more than that for a weekend at the coast, ONE WEEKEND. Gimmie the AC!

Okay, so I took care of my own personal at-home comfort. What is everyone else waiting for? I don't get it, is this a homesteader thing, "my covered wagon hard-assed ancestors wore long woolen underwear and long skirts all summer long, I don't need no stinkin' city-folk air conditioning" kind of tough man contest? I even have an east facing sleeping porch, so I know these tough wagoneers had good sense and built for hot days as best they could. And I'm lucky enough to have a downright chilly finished basement, but my suite is on the top floor, I prefer to have the cool air up thar. We have the technology, y'know? We spend thousands on computer and phone and internet stuff, maybe AC is too low tech, more an appliance and not sexy enough.

The summer 4 years ago I spent days and days after work going from the bathtub filled with cold water to the lawn chair set up in my living room with beach towels and a fan, I thought, "Our esteemed President may be in denial about climate change, but I know he's not sitting in the Oval Office in a damp lawn chair and a wet bathing suit spread-eagled in front of a box fan," and I resolved to get me an air conditioner before the next June rolled to the front. And I did.
I love it, and it works for me even better when I park it on the north side of the house. The other supplies I picked up along the way were icy cold mint shampoo soap and cooler freeze packs, for the neck, lower back and behind the knees, just in case the compressor freezes up. It's only the size of a microwave, not Florida-caliber, but it does the trick. And the Dr Bronner's Peppermint will hit it hard, especially washing your hair and leaving it in a few minutes too long----what headache?
So I'm ready, planned my strategy, and think that seedless watermelon diet is the best idea for the next few days.
Even my favorite yarn store "Yarn Garden" got AC a few years ago! I mean, c'mon!!