Arriving home after a roadtrip has some good aspects I suppose but I’ve never been one to dwell on them. Like a villain returning to the scene of a crime, I am reminded of all the tasks I left undone and how much catching up there is to do. On second thought, maybe all the mundane responsibilities are cause enough to get away from it on the road. I came home to a kitchen full of fruit flies, too small, too quick to swat, they lurk unseen until I get too close and then they swarm. All I can say for sleeping in my own bed is that there is no downside. I created a sleeping berth in the back of my Ford F150; a folding cot, several folded blankets, two good pillows a sheet and a good sleeping bag. In summer, even on cool nights up north I get the right combination and sleep comes easy.
This is day #2 back and I’m still putting things right. It rained an inch & a half last night so no need to water or mow for that matter but it’s always a puzzle figuring out what comes next and what after that. I’m gradually gaining on the fruit flies. A couple of spools of fly paper strategically placed overnight and (stuck) flies this morning are doomed to dry up and go out in the trash.
Today is supposed to be the the first of many forecast with heat advisories. If we get even a small breeze, 97 today will be alright but after that the prediction is nonstop 98, 99 and triple digits for over a week. I will go out early, wear sunglasses and a hat that shades my ears. I’ll get my stuff done (gym, chores, coffee group) and hide inside through afternoon and evening. I used to thrive on hot summer but that’s for kids, mad dogs & Englishmen, so I hear.
Back when Britain was an empire (18th & 19th centuries) most of their foreign territories fell on or near the equator. British officials and travelers alike were famous for a double dose of indifference and ego. Whether on assignment or vacation, Englishmen in particular arrived with little or no protection from the midday sun but it didn’t keep them from going out in it. Resulting sunburns were painful but their prideful pretense with British superiority would make it unthinkable to reveal any chinks in their condescending disregard so they flaunted their pain and discomfort instead. It would be a shameful day in Bombay when an Englishman conceded to the Indian Sun. Playwrite Noel Coward wrote a song by that name in the 1930’s that poked fun at England’s long held, self obsession. The song, Mad Dogs & Englishmen visits every former British colony with clever rhymes that go on and on like a Bob Dylan manifesto, laced with humor in the style of Randy Newman. I don’t remember hearing the song but the phrase still rings of self obsessed conceit one would associate with modern day New York City and all of Texas. If I have overstated N.Y.’s pomposity I have no problem taking some of that back.
I’ll be out in the midday sun soon but I will be under shade, long white sleeves and with water bottle. I’m starting to imagine road trips again; too much planned for K.C. in the coming months to test my (West Coast) appetite but it isn’t even August and I hate to think my travels (long weekends don’t count) are done for the season.
This is day #2 back and I’m still putting things right. It rained an inch & a half last night so no need to water or mow for that matter but it’s always a puzzle figuring out what comes next and what after that. I’m gradually gaining on the fruit flies. A couple of spools of fly paper strategically placed overnight and (stuck) flies this morning are doomed to dry up and go out in the trash.
Today is supposed to be the the first of many forecast with heat advisories. If we get even a small breeze, 97 today will be alright but after that the prediction is nonstop 98, 99 and triple digits for over a week. I will go out early, wear sunglasses and a hat that shades my ears. I’ll get my stuff done (gym, chores, coffee group) and hide inside through afternoon and evening. I used to thrive on hot summer but that’s for kids, mad dogs & Englishmen, so I hear.
Back when Britain was an empire (18th & 19th centuries) most of their foreign territories fell on or near the equator. British officials and travelers alike were famous for a double dose of indifference and ego. Whether on assignment or vacation, Englishmen in particular arrived with little or no protection from the midday sun but it didn’t keep them from going out in it. Resulting sunburns were painful but their prideful pretense with British superiority would make it unthinkable to reveal any chinks in their condescending disregard so they flaunted their pain and discomfort instead. It would be a shameful day in Bombay when an Englishman conceded to the Indian Sun. Playwrite Noel Coward wrote a song by that name in the 1930’s that poked fun at England’s long held, self obsession. The song, Mad Dogs & Englishmen visits every former British colony with clever rhymes that go on and on like a Bob Dylan manifesto, laced with humor in the style of Randy Newman. I don’t remember hearing the song but the phrase still rings of self obsessed conceit one would associate with modern day New York City and all of Texas. If I have overstated N.Y.’s pomposity I have no problem taking some of that back.
I’ll be out in the midday sun soon but I will be under shade, long white sleeves and with water bottle. I’m starting to imagine road trips again; too much planned for K.C. in the coming months to test my (West Coast) appetite but it isn’t even August and I hate to think my travels (long weekends don’t count) are done for the season.
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