It’s hot here in southwest Montana — smokin’ hot. I feel sheepish complaining about our string of 95 degree days here, feeling your eyeballs roll in Texas, Utah, Florida, the East Coast and points in between. But in my defense, most of us don’t have air conditioning in southwest Montana (because our “hot” season is comparatively short, Thank Gawd), so when it’s hot outside, it’s hot inside, too.
The boys have taken to hiding in the basement where it’s cooler, occasionally emerging into the oven-like daylight of the upstairs for food, squinting like naked mole rats.
As of this past Monday, four fires were raging in our region, and as I write it’s warm, gusty and the air is hazy with smoke. Yesterday, a 95-degree day with 6 percent humidity and winds gusting around 25 miles per hour, I swear I could see our front lawn morph into straw. Also, there’s a foreboding sense that with fire season starting early, this could be a “bad fire year” in the West. And while there are actually benefits to fire, a bad fire year usually means no campfires in the backcountry; then when things worsen they flat-out close the surrounding playground of wild lands and you stay home grumbling in your desert-house where you occasionally microwave food for naked mole rats.
We’ve also had a huge, gaping hole in the front of our house this past 10 days, which wasn’t a big deal until the weather turned toasty, but don’t register this as complaining. I’m pleased silly with the Before and After look of our still-evolving house in general, and the front door/entryway that Shawn is now remodeling in specific.
Stay cool and have a happy 4th of July!