Coffee heat rising

And now for a balmy afternoon….

Heh! After yesterday’s 110° at 7 p.m., we’re having a balmy afternoon today. At 4:30 in the afternoon — usually about the hottest point of the day — we’ve only barely reached the 110 mark. Brrrr!

Taking advantage of the crisp temperature, I sallied forth to the Safeway, there to buy some eye salve for the poor little dog, plus a whatnot or two. Truly hotter than the hubs on those black asphalt streets.

Safeway has invented a new annoyance: if you want to buy wine or other boozy beverages, they try to steer you into a dedicated checkout stand in the liquor aisle. Took a second or two to figure that out…

Right, guys. Like I want to stand in line to pay TWICE! Once for food and household items, once for a bottle of Chardonnay.

Criminey. WHO thinks this stuff up?

Oh well. When I expressed my annoyance, I was excused from the booze department line and allowed to buy all my groceries with a single pass-through at the front-of-the-store cash registers.

Man! My air-conditioning bill is gonna sail through the stratosphere this month. Here in the front room, the temp is 80 degrees, with the AC unit pounding away nonstop. But in the front guest bedroom, where Ruby and I have taken refuge from the present heat wave, it’s 78. That’s because the room sits directly under the AC unit, and its vent is the first vent that comes out of the machine.

By the time it reaches the family room, where I’m poking away at the keyboard right now, it’s in the low 80s. And the unit does not go off. Nope. Not once, not alllll dayyyyy long! That’s even though the thermostat is in the hall right outside that refrigerated bedroom.

No sign of the mid- to late-summer monsoon weather. Usually by now we have rainstorms that coalesce late in the afternoon and hold forth from around 4 or 5 p.m. on into the evening. This phenomenon cools the air significantly, sometimes to such a degree that in theory you could cut back on the AC bill.

Not this year, though! Not so far.

No doubt Ruby wonders where her dinner is. Poor beast!

I’m holding off on feeding her until the sun goes down — that’ll be another 2 hours or so — so that if and when we go for an evening doggy-walk, the pavement will be cool enough for her to walk without burning her feet. Even so, if we wanted to cross the street, we would have to wait till around 10 p.m. for the asphalt to cool. The sidewalks we can manage awhile after sundown….the roadways: not so much.

Ruby has a low-level eye infection…i think. Either that or allergies. Nothing much grows at this time of year that ought to trigger allergies, so the hypothesis is either an infection or dry eyes. My doc has me wiping my own dry eyes with something called “iVisia,” which seems to help a little. Tried it on Ruby, and found that yes, it’s seems to work on her, too.

But…go ahead! Just TRY to find it.

Found it a few days ago at the Safeway….but today when I picked up another bottle and brought it home, I discovered the stuff I’d grabbed off the shelf is a gel, not the liquid drops.

arrrrghhhh! AM i going to traipse back through the heat and the lunatic drivers to return that?

I dunno. Really…some things are just. not. worth it.

Speaking of “not worth it,” have you seen THIS little bit of intelligence? Robert Kennedy’s nutty son is busy spreading crackpot conspiracy theories…as part, it appears, of a projected run on the presidency.

Holy sh!t.

Are there, d’you think, enough anti-vaxxer ignoramuses, enough paranoiacs who believe 5G networks are a tool to spy on us all, enough conspiracy theorists who imagine the CIA put out the hit on RFK Sr. to carry this nut case into the White House?

Holy sh!t. Truly. If there are, I am moving to Venezuela. Or better yet: to a desert island in the middle of the Pacific.

 

 

At the Hubs of Hades…

It’s 7 p.m., and the thermometer in the shade of the back porch reads 111°.

No kidding. It’s a hundred and eleven degrees out there…in the shade…at 7:00 p.m.

How in the name of Heaven do Gerardo and his guys survive in this, banging away they do? It’s horrific to contemplate.

My father survived, wrangling tugboats and tankers in very similar weather: stupidly hot, stupidly humid.

More humid, as a matter of fact. I can remember standing in the front yard of a balmy summer day and having it rain on me out of a clear blue sky.

When humidity reaches a certain saturation, it simply condenses out of the air. Once, in Arabia, I saw that happpen: as I stood in the front yard under a clear blue, hot sky, rain just started falling. No clouds. No wind. No nothing but raindrops falling out of a hot blue sky.

Interestingly, that hasn’t happened here…yet. So I guess we can’t complain too much.

What next, Lord?

Thursday a.m.

So I called the dentist this morning to try to weasel out of today’s appointment. My understanding was, we were to discuss and maybe try to do something about the chronic pain in the upper left jaw.

Ugh! Just what I don’t wanna do with my morning…

….and in fact, when I rolled out of the sack this a.m., the pain was GONE!

This is something that’s been going on, unchanging, for weeks. Now, poof! It’s GONE???

Well, I have other things to do than endure more dental torture, so I called to cancel the appointment. But…

noooooo…..

Today’s appointment wasn’t for dental pain. It was to get my teeth cleaned.

Dammit!

I am DEAD SURE we did that less than 6 months ago.

*****

24 Hours Pass
Now It’s Friday

*****

Somehow I survived the trip to the dentist’s. Just tooth-cleaning. No big deal. Time-consuming, but otherwise bland enough.

Followed by a very bland day.

M’hijito has made no move — that I know of — to pursue another dog. Probably that’s best: he needs to recover from losing the beloved Charley. But I do hope he can shake off the blues and seek a new sidekick, in due course.

Meanwhile: One of the lamps on my dining-room chandelier developed a short. I installed it shortly after moving in here, lo! these many years ago, and I still love it. This one is close, though not identical. You get the idea, though: half-a-dozen fake candles

So I call Electrician Dude. He and his young sidekick surface. He spends maybe half an hour inspecting and then fiddling with it. Get it working again. Then he forks over a bill for TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS!

As you can see from that Amazon link in the previous paragraph…I could have bought a brand-new chandelier for that!

Soooo…dammit! Guess we’ll be looking for a new electrician.

****

Saturday a.m.

And another 24 hours pass. Wake as usual at dawn, dawg campaigning to go outside. Putter around. Notice her eyes are running, not an unusual thing here in Allergy Central. Like humans, dogs are allergic to all the dust that blows around and the weeds that sprout everywhere you look. Get a Kleenex to wipe her face and…ohhhh shee-ut! it comes away with BLOOD on it.

Holy mackerel. Her eye is red because it’s bleeding!

Should I take her to an emergency vet?

{cringe!}

That means

a) an interminable wait (one commenter on Yelp said they sat in a waiting room for SEVEN HOURS)
b) a BLINDING bill

Any chance I could squeeze in to the ineffable Dr. Bracken’s schedule?

Right! Sure! On a Saturday morning!!

They supposedly open at 8:00 a.m.  It’s 8:15 a.m.

Get on the phone: line is picked up by an answering yakathon. It blasts Muzak (of a sort) into my ear: a repetitive banjo twang.

twangidy-twang twangidy-twang
twangidy-twang twangidy-twang
twangidy-twang twangidy-twang
twangidy-twang twangidy-twang
twangidy-twang twangidy-twang
twangidy-twang twangidy-twang
twangidy-twang twangidy-twang

….on and on and on… After about five minutes of this, a young-sounding male voice answers. He takes my number, supposedly to call back. He says they don’t open until 9:00 a.m. I remark that maybe they’d better change the data on their website.

Ohhhhh welll….

How can I SAY how much I don’t wanna drive way to hell and gone into Darkest Arcadia on a Saturday morning?

This will blow away half the day…assuming I can get in at all.

Phone rings: Vet’s staff on the phone. Explain what’s happening. She wants to ask him about it. She puts me on hold: BLASTING goddamn annoying Muzak…combined with advertising pitches for why you must bring your pet right in.

Godlmighty! Are there PR people out there who specialize in annoying your customers?

Human comes on phone:  He wants to wait and see. Thinks it could be allergies, since she’s not digging at it and seems not to be in pain. Suggests gently wiping with dampened cotton balls; call back if not improved by Monday.

THANK YOU, GOD!

This is why I take my livestock to that veterinarian, endless schlep notwithstanding. He’s not in the business of clipping you, and so if he thinks something can benefit by a wait-and-see approach, he’ll tell you.

As it develops, everybody else who’s ever heard of the man betakes themselves there, too. That office is humming with traffic, all day, every day.

I’m convinced that he really IS the single best vet in the city, and probably in the state.

***

In other precincts: someone else has noticed that it’s hot outside. 😀  Ohhhh how the media love Arizona summers! On any given Slow News Day, there’s always something to get rattled about…

EEEEEEEEEEK!!!!!
HISTORIC HEAT WAVE CONTINUES ACROSS ARIZONA THIS WEEKEND!!!!

What to do? What to do?

Hilarious.

Nothing like a little hysteria to sell newspapers and news websites. No, there’s nothin’ “historic” about 112 degrees. It’s actually pretty typical for July and August in the low desert.

That said: my power bill is gonna be through the roof.

Jacked the A.C. down to 77 last night, so as to manage to sleep. Just turned it back up to 80, which will make it mighty hot in the family room & kitchen, where skylights act like automobile windows. So we’ll have to hang out in the bedrooms throughout the afternoon.

Which is what I’m gonna do right now: Go back to bed!

Glub! Underwater in Lovely Phoenix

It is SOOOOOO wet out there that all you have to do is stand outside to raise a sweat.

wait wait! That’s true of standing inside, too!

Where does this city think it is? Dankest Georgia? Right now the sky is overcast — seriously overcast, as in “gimme 45 minutes or an hour to deliver the rain” — and we’re enjoying 90 degrees on the back porch. Wunderground says it’s 95, with 35% humidity…and I could buy that

Pool Dude surfaced this morning, shortly after dawn. I’d about lost hope…thought he’d disappeared from the scene. But nooo…here he is!

Did a nice job of cleaning the already pretty clean hole in the ground into which to pour money. Repaired some stuff. Chatted…sweet guy, IMHO. Probably a serial killer, but he can hold a nice conversation. And he’s cute. 😉

*****

A-a-a-an-d…. O’course I pick the most miserable hot day of the year to generate an Adventure in Frustration.

Hoooleeee sheee-ut!

The eye that had the cyst in it, lo! these several months ago — the eye that we thought was HEALED, ooohhh thank you gawd and billy graham — started itching and hurting. Again.

Can’t see anything in there. Apply the long-ago-recommended Refresh brand eye drops.

Nothing: no effect.

Wait a day or two, hoping Nature will take its course.

Nothing: no effect.

Hurts itches itches hurts hurts itches…and so on to infinity….

So I call the Honored Eye Doc. His staff directs me to trot out and purchase an over-the-counter product called Ivisia: eye drops of provenance unknown to me.

And, as it develops, unknown to about every retailer in the city.

Walgreen’s doesn’t have it.

Albertson’s doesn’t have it.

Walmart doesn’t have it.

Finally, after what feels like driving…driving…driving for hours through the 110-degree heat, I stumble into a Safeway. Stagger to the pharmacist’s counter. He points me to a stack of shelves down an aisle 15 or 20 feet from the his counter.

And lo!!!  THERE IT IS!

Grab. Trudge to checkout. Stand in line stand in line stand in line stand…pay up.

Back in the car.

Heat makes Arizona drivers crazy. We shouldn’t find that surprising, though. Everything makes Arizona drivers crazy.

Trudge and dodge and dodge and trudge and finally make my way home. If the present discomfort didn’t make this thing feel ever so slightly urgent, I would’ve just come home and ordered it from Amazon.

Honestly. I don’t know how local retailers even begin to compete with Amazon. The hassle factor entailed in schlepping around the God Damned City to find ONE STUPID LITTLE ITEM is sooooooooooo aggravating, that given just a little more motivation, I would’ve succumbed to common sense and ordered it online.

But…the eye hurt, and I really really did NOT want to wait two days for delivery plus run the risk of our pet porch pirates stealing the stuff before I can find it.

Ohhhhh well! Now we have it.

****

I sweartagawd, it feels just like lovely Ras Tanura out there. That desiccated corner of Eastern Hell on the shore of the Persian Gulf…summertime was sauna time.

Seriously: I can remember waking up in the morning on those hot summer fucking days and seeing water dripping off the eaves. And no, it had NOT rained during the night.

I can remember standing in the front yard under a clear blue sky and watching RAIN condense out of the hot, cloudless air.

Like that: that’s how it feels.

My poor mother. How on earth did that hapless little Upstate New York orphan survive even her first 16 or 18 years on this pitiless earth, to say nothing of 30+ years of marriage to my globe-trotting, tightwad father? In her place, I would have died long before I gave birth to the first lifeless baby, to say nothing of the second one and the third brat that survived.

To say nothing of the man who dragged her to Hell (seriously…) and back again. She was, when you think about her, an amazing woman.

Damn! I wish I’d appreciated that while she was still living.

*******

Seriously: when I say it’s an inexplicable wonder that local retailers are surviving Amazon — if they are — I kid you not.

  • There were hardly any customers in the Walgreen’s.
  • Hardly any in the Albertson’s.
  • More in the Walmart, but not enough to keep a large retail enterprise alive.
  • Naught but a bunch of yuppifed egotists in the Safeway, creatures that were buying one or two items apiece…nary a week’s worth of groceries in evidence at any check-out stand.
  • Now consider what a hassle it was to get ahold of this magical mystery eye salve in person, from a brick-and-mortar retailer….
  • Why on earth would anyone want to go through that?

You may be sure that in the future I will remember. And when I can, I will order all the little necessaries online. Occupying a fricasseeing hot afternoon schlepping from place to place through nasty traffic is not something I want to do whenever I need this or that little retail item.

August in (un)Lovely Arizona

Seven a.m. sharp. Just back from a mile-long walk through the ‘Hood and Upper Richistan with Ruby the Corgi. Weather is HIDEOUS. Hot, cloudless, but dripping wet.

This did mean, mercifully, fewer nitwits trotting around behind their “fur-babies,” which meant less pestering, fewer evasion maneuvers, and faster progress. Usually our route is littered with numbskulls who want your dog to socialize with their dog, which they confuse with their kid.

So this morning hardly anyone was out, thank the soggy heavens. I reckon that’s because a) relatively few people are in town — August is escape month around here — and b) those who are in town aren’t given to braving 112-degree weather when it’s so wet the water rolls off your face and down your back the minute you step out the front door.

No sign of Pool Dude having been here.  That suggests one of two things:

a) He’s having car trouble; or
b) He’s wrestling with some unholy problem in someone else’s pool.

Either way: Lucky Him, eh?

No sign, either, of the much-vaunted monsoon rains. Those summer storms, which blow up from the Sea of Cortes in August when it gets hot and muggy here, treat us to spectacular lightning shows and — more to the point — drop the temp a good 20 degrees in the course of an hour or two. This makes the late afternoons and evenings tolerable and keeps the inside of your house in the air-conditionable range.

As it is in this morning’s state of meteorological affairs: nope! It is HOTTER THAN THE HUBS in the house. Ruby and I have moved into the middle bedroom, located right underneath the air conditioner. This status means that the freshly cooled air said machine emits goes directly into that room. It’s the only room in the house that’s reasonably comfortable all day and into the night.

Unfortunately, though, when Big Corporate Brother took television away from us (no, I am not paying for hour on hour of schlock shot through with advertising), I converted that room from the TV Room into a bedroom. But, alas, didn’t have enough sense to buy a full- or queen-sized bed. A twin bed is not great for an adult American, and it’s really too narrow for a human and a dog.

And nice try, but have you ever attempted to say “no” to a corgi?

Noooo way in Hell is that hound gonna be kept off the bed.

***

Jeeeminee! Lookit this: SIX CARS pile up on the unlovely I-17 freeway, the route that loops around the city and then heads for Flagstaff. The 17 to Thunderbird and then westerly, westerly, ever-westerly to the campus was the route I used to take when I worked at ASU West.

Or it was for awhile, anyway. After a bit, the endlessly repeated dramas persuaded me to take the surface streets, all the way.

Oddly, driving up there on the surface roads doesn’t take much longer…probably because they aren’t that heavily trafficked and because the stretch on the freeway is only about half the distance to the campus — or less, maybe.

***

8:30 a.m. Still no Pool Dude. He’s normally here and long gone by this hour.

{sigh}  This development now means one of (at least) seven things. Take your pick:

  • He’s caught the epizootic and is sick in bed. Or worse: in some hospital ward…
  • His truck broke down and he’s wrestling with trying to get it started.
  • He got in an accident while driving to a job and is now screwed, screwed, ge-screwed.
  • He had some major problem with a pool at a client’s house where he goes before he comes here.
  • He’s PO’ed at me because I had Swimming Pool Service & Repair address a problem that looked to me like it was More Major than he was equipped to address.
  • He’s decided to quit the pool maintenance bidness and is leaving it to his (former) customers to figure that out.
  • My phones aren’t working, and when (if) he tried to call me, he couldn’t get through.

None of these is a good sign.

He also may, of course, have keeled over from a heat stroke. How outdoor workers manage to survive laboring in an Arizona summer remains a mystery. Gerardo’s guys were over here the other day, tooling around the yard as though this unholy heat were a balmy spring day. They just amaze me.

Today is supposed to be relatively cool, saith the Wunderground folks. It’s only supposed to reach 110. But…by Thursday: 114. Saturday and Sunday: 116. And then chilling back down to 114 next Monday.

Just hope to Gawd the air-conditioner holds. It’s an aging unit now — I had it installed shortly after I moved in here, which was more than the day before yesterday… Soon, that thing is gonna give up the ghost and have to be replaced. And the harder it has to work, the sooner it’s gonna crap out.

****

Okay, call WonderAccountant: is Our Beloved Luz, the Cleaning Lady from Heaven, due today?

Nope. Not till next week.

uh-HUH. Well, on one level, that’s a relief: I am fully not in the mood for the Cleaning Lady Jamboree.

On another: uhmmmm…. I don’t see a record in the checkbook that I paid her last week. Holeee Sh!t…did I fail to pay her? {moan}  Yet another confusion to try to figure out.

While WA and I are on the phone, BING-BONG!!!

Front door. Some turkey is out there going door-to-door. I chase him off. He gets nasty. Take a flyer, chucklehead!

****

Heh heh heh…How d’you like this as a sign for the front gate?

NO SOLICITING, PLEASE!

We are not interested in anything you are selling.

We are not interested in your political campaign.

We have already signed your petition,

or, if not, have already decided not to sign it.

DO NOT PESTER BY JANGLING THE DOORBELL, PLEASE.

The answer is and always will be

NO!

Seriously….like Life doesn’t have enough hassles without some goofball showing up at your door trying to pitch some product, some political hustle, some petition for something you don’t care about?

Welp…still no sign of Pool Dude. That makes him about three or four hours late, since he usually surfaces around 7 or 8 a.m. It’s hotter than the Hubs out there, so I think the path of least resistance will be to wait until this evening before hooking up the hose vac. Then schlep the leaves and gunk off the bottom.

That could be contraindicated by the time of year: in mid-summer, we often get dust storms late in the afternoon, which is what dumped the present mound of trash in there.

Welp…it’s after noon. I’d better get off my duff and fix a decent meal, since the sky is clabbering up and that means there’s a good shot the weather will be antithetical to grilling the swell slab of mahi I’ve got sitting in the freezer. And so…awayyyy…

Stay cool!

Passing WARM…Passing on to Afternoon from Hell!

We’re told the World is going to Hell in a climate-warming handcart, ohhhhh eeeek! Be scared. Be very scared.

Uhm. Ohh-kay.

It’s only 111 on the back porch, a little short of 11 a.m.. That’s passing warm, but nothing to get hysterical about. This being, after all, the first week of July. When we say “hotter’n’the fourth of July” in these parts, we’re not kidding.

No. I’ve seen 120-degree days here, when planes couldn’t take off from Sky Harbor because the air was so hot they couldn’t get enough lift to clear a runway. And yes, that was before the Climate Change Hysteria took a-hold.

Not that I don’t believe the planet’s climate is warming…

It probably is.

But if so, take note: it’s not the first time! We’ve had whole geologic ages whose climate was much warmer than what we’ve seen over the past few centuries. for all we know, what we’re seeing now may be normal for the earth, and what we saw in the 18th and 19th centuries may have reflected a cold spell.

So calm down, f’rhevvinsake.

Meanwhile, the dawg and I are fricaseeing.

Gerardo showed up as dawn cracked to repair a busted irrigation pipe. Talk about your Man of Steel! He fixed it, collected a nominal fee, and shot off down the road.

That guy is just flat amazing.

**************

5:29 p.m.

Wow! Talk about your Days from Hell…

Actually, it wasn’t all that bad. Infernal, yes: heat-wise. But hassle-wise? Just middling.

Phoenix’s garden-spot climate reached about 110 come 3:00 this afternoon. Conveniently, this was when I was out driving around, doing battle with my fellow homicidal drivers. HOLEE shee-ut, driving around in this heat is about as unadvised as unadvised can get.

But o’course, you have no choice. If you’re gonna do the things that need to be done, you’re gonna have to drive.

A few cheery highlights:

Wanna drive out to the credit union, way to Hell & Gone out at the ASU West campus. To get there, I’ve gotta get gas. Soooo….  I drop by the big ole Circle K station that lurks between here and the freeway.

Stand in line stand in line stand in line stand in line…pull up to a pump.

Put my credit card in.

The damn thing won’t accept my AMEX card. It tells me to go inside to pay.

F@ck!

Trudge through the heat and into the “convenience” (hah!) store.

Stand in line stand in line stand in line stand in line… Finally get up to a human. He says “do this, that.” I say “but I just did this and did that.” More people are standing in line. I do not feel like inducing any more frustration, either in them or in myself.

F@ckit! I think. I’ll just back-track to the GOOD gas station, way Hell and gone 20 blocks in the opposite direction from where I’m going.

***

Pull up to a pump.

It won’t take my credit card.

Goddammit!

Into this inconvenience store.

Stand in line stand in line stand in line stand in line…  Here the service dude actually dispenses service: he comes outside, bats around and bats around and finally gets the goddamn thing to work!  Not directly charging to AMEX, but at least it pumps gas into the tank.

Back to stand in line stand in line stand in line stand in line… Pay up.

It is hotter than the proverbial hubs. Seriously.

Now it’s getting late. Rush hour is shifting into full swing.

Am I REALLY going to drive way to Hell and Gone out to ASU West just to argue with the credit union folks? In the 112-degree heat?

Seriously?

Yeah, I do need to visit a Sprouts, and the store next to the campus IS the best Sprouts store in the Valley.

But…but…but…in this heat, does “need” to visit translate to “have” to visit?

Hell, no!

Will the CU even still be open by the time I get out there?

Probably. But…

Ohhhhhh Hell noooooooooo!

Throw in the cards and head back to the Funny Farm.

***

FLY out into the backyard and pour an extra dose of water on the potted plants in back. Hot. Hot. Hot. and Hot.

Plants seem to be surviving for the nonce, but that won’t last long without at least two waterings on a day like this.

Toss the hose in the pool, turn the spigot to Full Blast, and set the timer for 15 minutes. That should (I hope) replace the two or three inches that have evaporated since this time y’day.

***

Open the mail.

AMEX bill is…well…yeah: STAGGERING.

Can’t make the credit union’s infuriating website let me in to see whether there’s enough cash on hand to cover that particular outrage.

Call on the phone.

Irritating yakathon runaround…

Irritating yakathon runaround…

Irritating yakathon runaround…

Irritating yakathon runaround…

FINALLY a human being picks up.

Yes. There’s a vast pile of money in there (thanks to Dollars Dude, who has transferred it over from Fidelity). So yes, I can pay the AMEX bill.

By now I am just freakin’ TOOOOO TIRED to jump through that hoop safely. Decide to put the chore off until tomorroe.