Wednesday, July 17, 2013

It's Hump Day, Hump Day, Humpy Humpy Hump Day

Can you tell I'm glad that it's Wednesday?  I don't even know why, I don't have anything fun on the weekend's horizon to anticipate, I guess I'm just glad.  I do look forward to those 3 days off in a row that I have every week.  Well, not every week.  See, Mrs. Boss asked me to work the first 2 Fridays in August and I wasn't fast enough to make up a reason why I couldn't so I'm going to work.  I used to work M, W, F, and every other Saturday, so my current schedule's an improvement and one I don't want to mess with.  Three days a week is the perfect amount to work, plus it doesn't interfere with my weekends.  *snort*

Man, it's oppressive outside.  The heat's bad enough but when you couple it with the humidity we've got... well, it's hard going out there.  My car's thermometer said 102 when I got in yesterday afternoon.  It cooled down to 97 as I drove.  Eesh.  And it takes so long to cool off once I get too hot.  I've been trying to drink a lot of water and I need to do better, I have a bit of a low-grade headache that I just can't shake.  I suspect it's a touch of dehydration, also it just might be the pressure making my sinuses sit up and take notice.  It's supposed to be like this through Friday and then get back to normal at least for the weekend.  Whew, that'll be a relief.

I happened to glance out back as the sun was setting to see the clouds all pink in the blue sky so I trudged (that's the only word for how it feels to walk in the heat and humidity) out with my camera to snap a few shots.  Pretty, no?

I get to wait a week before I go back to the chiro.  See?  I told you that I'm getting better.  Dr. Paula adjusts animals too and said she was going to work on some horses yesterday evening.  I'll bet the barn isn't air-conditioned.  Ugh.  Turns out she adjusts my brother TW's dogs.  Um, doesn't it seem odd to take your dog to the chiropractor?  It's a dog, not a person.  Dogs don't really have a sense of self, they're just dogs.  But then again I'm not really a dog person, not a pet person.  Oh, I like Porter more than any other dog I've ever met and I'm really glad that falling in like with her helped me stop being so afraid of other dogs, but she's a dog.  I'll admit that I like to credit her with human feelings and reactions, pretend that her antics on our walks are intelligently motivated but it's just putting spin on doggie behavior.  I'm the intelligent mammal in that equation.  This is heresy, I know it is.  Sorry, animal people, I'll shut up now.

July 17--Vincent van Gogh, Irises.  Grandma Frieda called them flags, those flamboyant early summer irises that live with their roots barely under the surface of the soil.  She was partial to the purple ones.  She'd gather them on early Saturdays when the dew was thick and mist clung to the orchard trees.  Four galvanized buckets half-filled with water rode along in wagons so that the cut flower stems spent as little time as possible in the drying air.  Grandma made the altar flowers every week.  It was an important job and a treat for this granddaughter who slept there on some Friday nights.  Grandma needed lots of flowers cut.  She made four bouquets; one for each side altar and two for the main altar.  She'd arrange each bouquet and tie it with twine, then it went back into the bucket for the mile ride to church.  She loved the irises for their beauty and their short lives but she loved the roses the best.  Aunt Cele and I scoured the nurseries one year for a lavender rose.  We found one and it was beautiful but it had no fragrance, not like the deep red Mr. Lincoln.  That one was her favorite of all.

I loved those cool summer Saturday early mornings in the garden with Grandma.  I didn't get to cut many flowers because I didn't cut the stems long enough or in the right place but I got to pull the wagon and sniff every bloom.  Then we went to the church, the silent empty church to put the flowers on the altars.  I can still recall the feeling of walking into the sacristy with Grandma.  It smelled like candles and incense.  A good memory, a warm one.  Okay then, I'm off to jump start my day with breakfast and the comics.  Oh, can't forget to pick up the tanks from Van's.  Yeah, I definitely need to think about asking for gas money.  See ya.

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

It's too darn hot!!! But love the little story of the flowers and Grandma A.